


The Interview We Never Expected

by a_simple_rainbow



Series: Is It Weird [6]
Category: Glee
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, is it weird verse, parents!klaine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 09:32:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9065968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_simple_rainbow/pseuds/a_simple_rainbow
Summary: 'I am aware that this is the type of conversation most reporters have wanted and tried to have with Hummel. I had come prepared to, like most of them, receive thinly veiled resistance to talk about his larger than life father, the epitome of triple threat: actor, singer, musician Blaine Anderson.Naturally, I push my luck.“Was he right to worry? Did you feel like it shaped your childhood? Your life?”I can see him deciding on his course of action. “Of course. There’s nothing that shapes you more than your family. And my family was special in a lot of ways. That’s just the most obvious one.”'The final installment of the Is It Weird Verse.





	1. Childhood

**Author's Note:**

> A belated happy holidays to all of you who have read this verse and stuck with it, now officially to its very end. I love this fic and all its parts, especially because of how you guys received it and made it feel so special. Please enjoy it! With this I bid my adieu to fanfiction!
> 
> (None of it would be possible without the support and help of notthetoothfairy, though - so, a huge thanks!)

 

 **_Antonio Hummel And The Interview We Never Expected_ ** _, in Vanity Fair_

_Antonio Hummel does not have the posture you’d expect of a screenwriting powerhouse, whose latest show has just been renewed for two more seasons after just half a season and is predicted to be this year’s awards darling. For starters, he’s early – when I arrive, expecting to have time to get my things ready and go over my interview plan one last time, he’s already sitting at a back corner table, two mugs of steaming coffee in front of him. His smile is not instantaneous, but two minutes into our conversation I realize it has more to do with shyness than it does with the arrogance anyone could have expected._

_He knows how to make himself invisible in a coffee shop, even in the type of LA neighborhood where most people probably should have recognized him, were he to give them any reason for a second glance. Instead, he fixes his glasses and lets his hand stay partially covering his face from stray eyes. It’s a gesture that somehow looks natural to him. After all, as the son of one of the biggest pop stars in decades, he’s probably practiced enough. I ask him about that, and he laughs._

_“Well, my last name isn’t Hummel because it’s prettier or better sounding. If there was one thing about my dad’s success he resented, it was our lack of anonymity.”_

_I am aware that this is the type of conversation most reporters have wanted and tried to have with Hummel. I had come prepared to, like most of them, receive thinly veiled resistance to talk about his larger than life father, the epitome of triple threat: actor, singer, musician Blaine Anderson._

_Naturally, I push my luck._

_“Was he right to worry? Did you feel like it shaped your childhood? Your life?”_

_I can see him deciding on his course of action. “Of course. There’s nothing that shapes you more than your family. And my family was special in a lot of ways. That’s just the most obvious one.”_

_“You’ve never been comfortable talking about your family before, though.”_

_“My dads fought for our privacy at every turn. And not just for me and my sister, but for themselves as well. Living with a constant spotlight on you, it’s not very conducive to stability. You feel like you can’t relax. Every step has to be calculated, pros and cons. That kind of pressure can easily break everything, and they were very dedicated not to let that happen.”_

-

Blaine lets his voice taper off on the last word, closes his eyes as the band behind him lets the notes dissolve in guitar strings and the beat come to one last hit, the song morphing into thunderous applause, screams, whistles. It hits him like it hasn’t since the first tour he ever did. There are thousands of people watching him looking at him right now. The stage lights burn his skin and shine bright pink through his eyelids. His breath is gone for a second. Two seconds. Three. Four. Five. He opens his eyes, breathes in. The applause hasn’t stopped, the faces haven’t vanished.

He leans into the microphone.

“Thank you.” His voice envelops the whole arena, volume multiplied beyond reason. “Thank you so much. It’s been an honor to be with you tonight.” He puts a hand to his chest, as people scream louder. “Thank you! Have a good night!” Louder still. “I’ll see you next time!”

He pops his ear protections out as he walks his way out of the stage, almost crushed by the indescribable sound of a thousand cheers.

It doesn’t stop as he enters the backstage area, catching Kurt, Tina and Allie in hugs. The haze hasn’t dissipated either. Not quite. He moves as if he’s somewhere other than reality. Allie is perched on his back, complaining about his gross sweat, and Kurt has kissed him and slipped his hand into Blaine’s, but Blaine is not 100% there.

They get to the dressing room, and there’s some more gushing from Allie, and Kurt and Tina are still fighting on whether or not she should’ve come with her nine-month pregnant belly. Blaine talks to them, does everything as expected, but it’s as if he’s watching it happen from outside of himself. Everyone in the room is acting normal. Normal.

Outside of himself, somewhere in this new parallel level of thought, existence, sensation, whatever it is, Blaine can only think this is not normal. How has this ever become normal?

“He needs a shower before the meets and greets.” Kurt says.

“Yes! Yes, he does!” Allie agrees, taking Tina’s hand and directing them out of the dressing room.

Kurt closes the door behind them laughing. He turns to Blaine, kissing him and playfully peeling the sweat soaked shirt off his stomach. Blaine laughs, and kisses him back. For a moment the axis aligns again. But the shirt glues back on when Kurt lets go, to cradle his face, and Blaine shifts deep into reality, the opposite direction from the haze before. Where he was looking from the outside, he’s now too aware of every part of his physicality. The bustle outside his door. The lights in the dressing room. His clothes glued to his body, worth probably hundreds of dollars but just as wet as a cheap target shirt would.

“What’re we doing?”

Kurt pulls back, half smirking, half frowning. “Well, you do have like ten minutes left before you have-“

“No, no.. I mean… deciding to have kids. What are we doing, Kurt? I…”

Kurt’s face pales, and his smile vanishes. He doesn’t speak.

“Is this… are we selfish?”

“What?” Kurt looks almost hurt. “Blaine, what are you talking about?”

“Are they gonna be happy? With us? Are we just… kidding ourselves? Am I delusional to think that I can… have that? That… That normal… part of life?”

A sigh of relief escapes Kurt, as he understands. Blaine can’t help but feel simultaneously less alone, because Kurt knows what he’s taking about, but also more, because Kurt just smiles like Blaine is being silly and there’s nothing to it. “Bee… Sweetheart, there’s never going to be a kid in the world luckier than the one that gets to have you as their dad.”

“But I just… They’re never going to have a normal life. No matter what I do. Even if I stopped now. And… can I stop? I… I should… I _should_! For them, I should. But… what if I can never give them that?”

“Who the fuck decides what’s normal? When have we ever been normal? When have we ever wanted to be normal?”

Blaine feels himself slipping back to life. “I… I don’t know. I just… I just played a song about how… how much I want that, and I played it to thousands of people, and that’s my life. That’s what I do. I… I’m going to bring someone who never asked for this into a circus, and I don’t know. I feel like… like it’s selfish. Just because I want it, I…”

“Blaine.” Kurt puts both hands on Blaine’s face and smiles softly; his eyes kind – pools of understanding. “There have been famous people since there were any people. There have been famous people having children, since just as long. It’s not selfish. It’s life. It’s _okay_.”

Blaine swallows, and tries not to look away from Kurt.

“It’s okay.” Kurt pulls his face back up when Blaine falters and averts his eyes. “It’s okay. We’re gonna be okay. Blaine. We’re gonna be okay. Say it.”

Blaine takes a deep breath. “We’re gonna be okay.”

“Yeah.”

“We’re gonna be good parents.”

“We are.” Kurt smiles, the most beautiful Blaine has seen him. “We’re not gonna be perfect, but we’re gonna be good. We’ve learned from the best.”

Blaine nods, pulls Kurt in close, envelops him in his arms and settles back.

“We got this.” Kurt murmurs.

“We should adopt.” Blaine says.

Kurt pulls back. He looks at Blaine for a moment, and his expression is hard to read.

“We should adopt. There are… it’s not second best. It’s not a consolation prize, it’s… I want to do it. They need help and we want to give it, and I… I think we should adopt.”

“Tina will be disappointed.” Kurt says, but there’s something to his voice.

“No, she won’t.”

Kurt laughs, “No she won’t.”

“She hates being pregnant.”

Kurt grabs Blaine’s hands and kisses both of them. “We should adopt.”

-

_“That is one thing that I didn’t realize until I was much older. Until I was thinking about that kind need myself, as a parent. As a kid, I never really recognized how scared they were of making mistakes, mostly of letting things get out of control. Of hurting us with the lives they had outside of our home. Lives they couldn’t always control. They weren’t as old as most people in their generation were when they decided to take that plunge. To this day I don’t know what made them do it so young, I mean, clearly biology was never going to be an issue, there was no timeline pressing, so I have to assume it was just a need to do it. But they were adamant to do it right.”_

_Hummel’s body language has completely changed. His hand has dropped from his face, he’s gesticulating, leaning forward, his eyes lit with emotion. For a moment, I have a flashback to Blaine Anderson’s interviews, and the expansive personality that up until now I assumed hadn’t seeped one drip into Hummel._

_“You weren’t exactly a baby when they adopted you, were you? Did you know who they were, when you were adopted? Were you aware of the full scope of it?”_

_He stutters on this. He has to think about it. “I mean, it was shortly after his third album, which was pretty huge, so it was inescapable. I remember hearing his name, when the social service agent had first come talk to me about it. She didn’t say it to me, but I overheard her talking to a colleague about it, and I do remember just kind of going off on an imaginary adventure of just having the best of everything, and a Porsche and Ferrari, and all sorts of fantasies a seven year old boy who’s never held more than twenty bucks in his hand has. But I was fairly used to disappointment, and I’d learned to expect the worst, so I convinced myself it wasn’t that Blaine Anderson. And that it wouldn’t work out anyway. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t until I was in their home, in that… you know – the type of home I’d only ever seen in movies, that I realized it really was him.”_

-

Kurt is pretty sure he’s made a mistake. He doesn’t know exactly what mistake, but he definitely made one.

He flips through the pages, goes back to the very beginning and checks everything on the illustrations to what he has in front of him. He squints his eyes. Pirate is looking at it like she knows what’s wrong, but it’s been almost a decade and Kurt still can’t have conversations with her like Blaine can, so she keeps it to herself if she does.

“Fucking meow.” Kurt mutters, and she plops down to the floor, stomach open for petting.

From across the apartment he hears the front door open.

“Marco?” Blaine’s voice echoes.

“Polo!”

He flips the page to where he should be, and turns back to squinting. A rousing game of spot the differences, clearly.

“What the hell are you doing?” Blaine is leaning against the door frame, looking mildly amused, but mostly frowning, his head tilted sideways as he takes in the sight of Kurt surrounded by long pieces of wood, and screws everywhere. “Are you trying to build an Ikea bed? Why is there even an Ikea bed in our house?”

“Hum…”

“We haven’t even opened the Ikea website in like… well, pretty much since we started dating and you said I had way too much money to justify even considering Ikea to begin with.” Blaine picks up the instructions, inspecting it distractedly. “You do know we have _more_ money now…”

“I’m aware.” Kurt rolls his eyes and goes back to sticking those little wooden thingies in all the holes they fit in.

“Okay.” Blaine smiles, sitting down and taking the wooden board and the hammer out of Kurt’s hands, and proceeding to undo all his work (to be fair, Blaine seems to be actually reading the instructions properly). “So. Let’s try again. Why are you building an Ikea bed in our future child’s bedroom, instead of hiring an interior decorator, like we did with pretty much the rest of the house?”

Blaine is clearly not angry. If anything he’s amused, as he waits for Kurt to answer.

What Kurt says instead is, “We’re kind of… very rich…”

“We are.”

“Well. Not kind of. We’re very rich.”

“Yes, Kurt. We’re very rich.”

“I… I was… thinking that… that’s a good thing. You know, that we’re probably gonna be able to afford whatever we need to.”

“Yes, most people would agree.”

“Right? Because, like, with Alice, it was… it was hard. For Mike and Tina, mostly, but… you know, we were there, and they were spread thin for a little bit there, and it’s a good thing it’s not gonna happen with us.”

“I think so, too.”

“But then I was thinking, that… it was also kinda fun…?” Kurt shrugs, scrunches up his nose. Blaine mirrors him with a chuckle. “It was, wasn’t it?”

“We all made the best of an unexpected situation.”

“But it was fun.” Kurt says. “Don’t you miss it sometimes? Like… the day Mike and Tina bought the Ikea crib, and…”

“And I basically set it up by myself because neither of you knows how to read simple instructions.”

“They are not simple.”

“They are very simple, Kurt. Very simple.”

“Blaine – it is part of pop culture how much everyone hates Ikea instructions. I am right. This is not a debate.”

Blaine raises his hands in surrender. “Okay. Proceed with your explanation for why there is an Ikea bed in this bedroom.”

“Right. So. Fun!”

“Fun?”

“Yes. Fun. It was fun, coming up with those solutions, and you know. I grew up… _not_ rich. And sometimes I would want to change up my room, because I’m me and you know, and obviously I couldn’t afford to just hire an interior decorator, who by the way is literally someone we’re paying to hear all of my ideas and then just do that and not add anything whatsoever to those, so, hum, might as well keep that money,-”

“Kurt…”

“Tangent, sorry. So, I would wanna change things, and I couldn’t afford, and sometimes my dad would… just kind of build me things, and that was fun. And there was something special about those things, because… because my dad made them. For me. With his bare hands.”

“And that was fun.”

“Yes. Exactly. So…”

“So… there’s an Ikea bed in our future child’s bedroom.”

“I know it’s idiotic, but I can’t actually build one with my bare hands, even if we had the tools, but-“

“I get it.” Blaine puts his hand on Kurt’s knee and squeezes. “I get it, love.”

“I just… don’t want it to be everything we have to offer the kid.” Kurt shrugs. “I don’t want to coast on having the money to buy everything they ever need or want. There has to be more, and… I just… I guess I needed to feel like there was.”

Blaine looks at Kurt so sympathetically that it borders on condescending, but it’s still nice. Kurt let’s himself slump into Blaine’s body.

“How many of these panic attacks are we gonna have, Bee?”

Blaine sucks in a breath, but he’s chuckling. “I think, we’re probably gonna have one every single day, love. At least I think we will, if we’re doing it right. We care, and when you care you worry.”

“We’re gonna be okay.”

“Kurt, there is so much more we can offer besides money. So much more. Whoever it is that ends up living this room, and sleeping on this bed, that _I_ will put together for safety reasons, will need a lot more than things that money can buy.” Blaine pulls Kurt to rest with his back to his chest, and circles his arms around his stomach. He kisses the top of Kurt’s head. “And I can’t think of anyone I’d trust more with that than you. Because you know how to take care of people, how to love them and be there. And that’s it. And maybe you can’t build a bed, but there’s a lot of things you can do that are just as fun, and lasting, and special.”

“I know… I think it’s just the waiting… it’s getting to me. I think maybe they don’t… believe in us. Every day that goes by without a phone call, it just-”

The phone rings.

-

_This interview is turning into something I could have only hope for in my wildest dreams. I’m almost afraid of pushing too far, so I tread carefully. “Do you know why they decided to adopt you and your sister? Were they looking for someone like you?”_

_“When you’re in the system, you don’t really celebrate birthdays. You can’t grow up. The older you get, the less chances you have. We don’t know what they were looking for, because they didn’t know, either. They were very open to any kind of scenario. And like with any case, it was a stroke of luck. Right time and right place kind of thing. I’m pretty sure they were coming in to meet another kid – a baby, I think. And they just saw us. I was with my sister, and we were being pulled apart, because that’s how it goes with foster homes, you can’t always keep siblings together, and so we were kind of making a spectacle, I guess. And that’s that. That was it.”_

_I’m sensing it’s gone too far and Hummel is going to change the subject, but then he’s smiling. A fondness takes over his expression, and that’s when I know we’ve settled into the interview he’s avoided since his career started, decades ago. “That was it?”_

_“Well obviously, I didn’t even know it that day. For all I knew they were just two people that passed by and I didn’t stop to notice. But they did, and they knew what they had to do. And a day later I was being asked about it. I didn’t actually care who they were, as long as they were letting me stay with my sister. I would have said yes to anyone.”_

_“But you are glad that that’s who you said yes to?”_

_Hummel grins. Once again, I recognize Blaine Anderson, and I have to remind myself they are not biologically related. “What do you think?”_

_I mention a few songs off the top of my head. An entire album about fatherhood and family, which changed a lot of things for Anderson’s career. An album that took him from a musical sensation appealing to hordes of teenagers and young adults, to making him a household name with a kind of respect reserved for the songwriters one describes as artists instead of pop stars. I mention the songs about fears of inadequacy and potential failure. He sings lyrics to me, and though his voice is certainly not on par with Anderson’s, or even his other father, fashion designer Kurt Hummel, the tenderness makes it special._

-

“We shouldn’t even be talking about this.” Blaine sighs into the phone.

“Hum, excuse me? Why would you not discuss this with your mother? They will be my grandchildren, Honey-Bee. I should be involved.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that.” Blaine rolls his eyes. “I just don’t wanna jinx it. I feel like if we talk about it, like it’s happening… it won’t.”

“Oh, I know, honey.”

Blaine watches Kurt rearrange the couch cushions for the third time. He walks over and puts his hand softly on Kurt’s back. “I should go, they’ll be here any minute.”

Kurt leans into Blaine, who kisses his cheek.

“Okay. Just call us as soon as the visit is over. I’m sure it’ll be great, honey. Maria already loves you. And Antonio will come around as soon as he sees the-"

The buzzer goes off. “Gotta go, mom. They’re here. Bye, love you.”

“Hey Blaine!”

He pauses, watching as Kurt picks up the receiver and tells the doorman to let the visitors up. “Yes?”

“Have fun.” His mom says, “They’re kids. They just want to have fun.”

The chuckle does something to Blaine’s breathing, and he suddenly feels much better. “Thanks, mom. I’ll call you back.”

“Bye, honey.”

He hangs up the phone just as Kurt opens the front door.

The social services lady smiles, and says something, but Blaine’s attention is all with the two kids standing slightly behind her. Antonio has his sister’s hand in a death grip, like always, and, like always, Blaine’s heart just completely splits open for them. He’s on one knee before he can even process himself.

“Hey, guys! Thanks for coming out today!”

Maria beams at once. She hurries over – Antonio hesitantly letting go of her hand – and throws her slightly chubby arms over Blaine’s shoulders. He hugs her back as enthusiastically as he can without crushing her and gets back to his feet, hoisting her over his hip. She giggles every time he does that.

He offers his fist out to Antonio, who bumps it reluctantly. Kurt finishes exchanging pleasantries with the social worker and turns towards the kids.

“Antonio, buddy!” He ruffles the boys hair, which is a rookie mistake but not unsalvageable. “What’s up? Ready to have some fun?”

“I guess.” Antonio shrugs and takes a timid step inside, while Kurt leans in for a good smooch on Maria’s cheek.

“Okay, guys.” Marcia smiles, she looks encouraging and enthusiastic which puts Blaine even further at ease. “I’m going to go now, and I’ll be back at eight, but I’ll be a phone call away if you need anything in the meantime.”

“’Kay.” Antonio nods. Blaine and Kurt exchange a happy look before they nod towards Marcia too.

“Have fun!” She waves them goodbye and turns back towards the elevator.

Kurt closes the door softly. “Well! Let’s go inside! We’re making pizza for lunch! How does that sound?”

Maria squeals excitedly.

“We’re making the pizza? Why don’t we just order it?”

Blaine can’t help himself – he laughs. Antonio does not look amused. “Sorry, bud.”

“We thought it would be fun to do them together.” Kurt shrugs, saving the moment. “We have all kinds of ingredients, so everyone can make their own favorite pizza.”

That’s about when Antonio finally moves out of the entrance, and they all follow. The minute the boy steps into the open space area, his jaw drops.

“Wow!” Maria squeals right next to Blaine’s ear. “Your house is huuuge!”

Blaine and Kurt try to telepathically debate what to say. Kurt ends up laughing. “It is kinda big, isn’t it? And there’s a second floor!” He chuckles, “I hope you guys don’t get lost!”

“We’ll draw you map.” Blaine winks, as he walks over to the couch.

“I think it’s super pretty.”

He drops her gently on couch. “And how would you feel about living here?” He tries not to inflect his voice with too much intention. Still, he can see Antonio’s head whipping towards them.

Maria buries herself into the couch. “Can I sleep on this couch?” She asks, and something about her tone sends a chill down Blaine’s spine. He glances towards Kurt and knows he’s not alone in the bad feeling.

“Honey, well, sure you can sleep on the couch if you want, but you’d have your own bedroom.”

“Really?!” She beams. “What about Nio?”

Blaine glances towards the boy who is watching the conversation with intensity. Blaine keeps his gaze soft and his eyes locked on Antonio’s. “You have your own room too, bud. They’re ready for whenever you feel ready to come live with us.”

Kurt and Blaine had debated on whether they should’ve prepared the rooms already, or wait until the process was further along and save themselves the potential heartache of taking it all back down if things fell through. But at the end of the day, they just couldn’t help themselves.

“Do you want to go check them out?” Kurt offers with one of his best cheeky smiles.

“Yes!” Maria springs to her feet. Antonio walks over and takes her hand, without saying more than “’Kay.”

If the kid just knew how much that simple gesture always gets to Blaine… He takes a deep breath and claps his hands together.

“Okay, let’s go on a tour of the whole place then, shall we?”

They lead the kids through the first floor first – the gym, Blaine’s mini-studio, Kurt’s office, the kitchen, the guest’s bathroom. The kids look like they’re in absolute shock. Blaine wonders if they should’ve taken it slowly. That’s when Pirate decides to show up from wherever she’d holed up for her nap. Maria looks the most excited she’s looked, which is saying something. Even Antonio can’t help but be pulled into the petting fest that evolves from there.

Ultimately Kurt has to intervene and explain that because she only has one eye she can’t see well, and is afraid of heights, so Maria can’t hold her. It’s quite surprising how fast Maria understands, but she still tries to keep the cat close by for the rest of the house tour.

“The bedrooms are upstairs.” Kurt points towards the staircase and lets the kids go on ahead of them.

Blaine takes the small reprieve to steal a kiss and grab his hand. “How’re the nerves?” he whispers.

Kurt lets out a breathy laugh and gives him a meaningful look. The kids are already heading to the nearest door when they reach the landing. Maria opens the door and her jaw drops. Antonio peeks in over her head and Blaine can tell the moment when he realizes that’s his room. They’ve kept it somewhat sane, with the type of room any 7 year old tends to appreciate. Well, okay, so the bed is double, but that’s hardly going overboard.

“This is your room, dude.” Blaine tells him, putting his hand on Antonio’s shoulder – careful to do it slowly and softly. He squeezes and encourages him slightly to go inside.

The boy is silent the whole time he’s looking around himself, taking everything in. He walks carefully over to where they’d put up a poster of the Boston Red Sox’s. He looks at it like it confuses him.

“That’s the one you told us you like, right?” Blaine kneels next to him.

Antonio looks at him. His eyes are wide, shocked. “Um… huh, yeah.” He whispers. “You remembered?”

Blaine squeezes his hand. “Of course, Antonio.”

“We remember everything.” Kurt tells him. “We love spending time with you guys.”

Antonio nods, but it’s hard to tell if the words sunk in at all. After a moment he just turns back to look at the poster like he doesn’t believe it’s real.

-

_“I don’t think any parent goes into it sure of themselves. I’m pretty sure that album was on repeat on my iTunes when my wife was pregnant. Of course they weren’t perfect parents. And that first year was predictably hard.”_

_“Because of who they were, or was it just the adoption process, and everything like that?”_

_“It’s a bit of a perfect storm, isn’t it? You have a deeply flawed system that makes kids grow up much faster and not necessarily into happy and trustful people. I was scared they’d realize what a huge mistake they’d made, choosing us. I couldn’t understand why us and I couldn’t trust my luck, so every mistake I made I was wondering if that was what was going to change their minds. And then it got to the point where I would sort of push the boundaries a little bit, test the waters. It was easier with her for them, than it was with me. I was older, and jaded. But obviously not old enough to understand that the fears I was having, they were having, too.”_

_“You didn’t connect with your parents right away?”_

_“Of course not. Adoption isn’t necessarily a fairytale, and especially not at the beginning. I’d gone through too much. I couldn’t trust anything that seemed too good to be true.”_

_This should come as a surprise to no one who has followed Hummel’s career from the start. He got his name out there with a web series about a group home and its group therapy sessions. It went viral, very much on its own merit. The stories weren’t just original and fresh, they were also deeply realistic and written from a highly personal point of view without becoming cynic or self-pitying. It became one of the biggest and most critically acclaimed web series, and gave him the first glimpse of a long career that’s been comprised of more hits than misses._

_“My sister wasn’t quite as aware as I was, she was five. I’d just gotten to that tipping point of childhood, where fears go beyond the boogey man under your bed. Where you notice things in adults beyond nice and not nice. The nuances start filtering in, and there’s no easy way of navigating jumping into a brand new family like that, without a few hesitations on both sides.”_

-

Kurt is in his office, door ajar so he can hear if any of the kids calls for him. He checks the time and quirks an eyebrow at realizing it’s been a full hour since he’s been summoned to settle some kind of dispute.

Alice is definitely not dealing well with not being a single child anymore, especially since Antonio and Maria’s adoption became official. The last year and half has been peppered with many episodes that will surely be funny in time, but now just somewhat frustrating. But what’s worse is how well she knows how to manipulate Antonio into doing dumb stuff, constantly daring or challenging him, doubting his courage or abilities. Every time the two get together, something is bound to go wrong.

Kurt is almost convinced today might be the first time nothing does when he hears the shriek.

He hops off the chair and jogs over to the living room, pausing only to flicker the lights in Blaine’s studio. When he gets there, Alice is on the floor, clutching her elbow, Antonio towering over her.

“What’s going on here?” He immediately goes over to Alice to check on her elbow. It seems to be a little rug burned.

“He pushed me!” Alice’s eyes fill with tears at once.

“Nio?!” Kurt turns to him, trying not too sound completely accusatory – but it’s a fine line and Kurt knows he didn’t balance well when Antonio just crosses his arms over his chest and looks at Alice with a good level of anger. “Nio, what happened?”

“I told you! He pushed me!”

Maria looks between her brother and Alice like she can’t decide who to focus on.

“I asked-”

Blaine pokes his head out of his studio just as the buzzer goes off.

Everyone pauses for a moment, there’s a flicker of something in Alice’s eyes. “Bee, can you get the door?”

Blaine eyes the scene with apprehension before he picks up the receiver. “Yes?”

Kurt turns back to Antonio. “Hon, why did you push Allie?”

He shrugs, looking away from Kurt. The frustration starts building up in Kurt’s chest. It’s always like this. He never engages. Kurt might very well think that Alice is not even close to the victim, but if he never cooperates and just lets her railroad him into these messes, then what is he supposed to do?

“Nio, come on, you n-”

“What the hell were you doing?” Blaine drops the receiver, turning to the three kids now looking especially sheepish. “Why is there a man downstairs telling the doorman that kids were dropping balls of wet toilet paper on his head?!”

Maria’s face goes bright red and she takes the smallest of steps back. Still, despite the unease atmosphere of guilt in the air, none of them open their mouths.

“I asked you a question!” Blaine walks over. His tone is angry and commanding and Kurt can count on one hand the number of times he’s heard Blaine use it. “Someone better start talking.” He snaps his fingers, and Alice flinches.

She drops her eyes to the floor for a second before she looks back at Kurt, defiance dripping from her voice. “It was _his_ idea.”

Antonio doesn’t look surprised. He scoffs and tightens his arms across his chest.

“I don’t care whose idea it was.” Blaine’s neck is red. “Get up.”

Alice looks absolutely betrayed, but she does as she’s told.

“The three of you are going downstairs right now to personally apologize to that man.” Blaine stomps over to the front door, pulling it open.

“But it was an accident. We were only-”

“No.” Kurt interrupts her with finality. “No excuses. Right now. All of you.”

Kurt watches as the three of them trail towards the door. He takes a deep, steadying breath and follows. As he passes by Blaine at the door, he takes his hand and squeezes. Blaine deflates visibly. They exchange a look that’s half exasperated, half amused.

“Damn kids.” Blaine mutters, before chuckling. Kurt shushes him discreetly.

They watch as the three of them diligently apologize to the man, who was allegedly an accidental victim of their competition to see who could throw the wet toilet paper balls far enough to stick on the closest building’s wall. When the apology is over and done with – and Blaine has signed an autograph for the man’s daughter – they head back upstairs. Blaine sits all of them down while Kurt texts Tina to let her know that Alice will need some disciplining later.

The finger pointing starts again. Alice is urging Maria to take her side, and Antonio has never looked more hurt. Kurt could beg him to just say something – anything – to help them understand things.

“Come on, Nio. Just tell us why you pushed Alice.”

He shrugs.

“Because I saw that the sir was going to come knock on the door, and I told him he was going to tell you all about it and he got angry.” Alice says. “Didn’t he, Maria?”

Maria looks like a deer caught in headlights. Kurt wants to roll his eyes.

“Well,” Blaine says softly. “Regardless of the motive, Nio, you can’t push people. That’s unacceptable. We can’t tolerate that kind of behavior, kid.”

“I knew it.” He says, getting up and storming out.

“Hey! Where are you going?!”

“To my room! I’m grounded, right?!”

Kurt stands up to follow but Blaine takes his hand and shakes his head silently. “Later.” Kurt doesn’t feel like leaving it to later, but Blaine is probably right, no one ever settled arguments in the heat of the moment. Instead they go back to talking to the girls. It’s really quite obvious what happened, and when Tina and Mike come back from little Ollie’s doctor appointment, they get fully briefed. Tina and Mike are right about ready to pull out their own hair. “I swear to god, the only thing left is finding her with a pillow over Ollie’s head.”

“Don’t even joke about that.” Blaine gasps, but even he can’t stop the chuckle.

“Hey… you know what you could try?” Kurt offers, opening his desk drawer.

Tina catches on at once. She holds out her hand for the contact card. “Might as well. I mean, it’s been like two years now.”

“She was every one’s little star for a long time,” Blaine reasons. “It’s a tough transition, and a lot of things changed all at once. I promise that Dr. Henshaw is fantastic. I mean, a couple of months there and things will be significantly better.”

Tina gives them a tight smile and a nod, but pockets the card.

Alice doesn’t even make it past the front door before Tina is rattling off her punishment, while Mike cradles a sleeping Ollie and murmurs apologies over his shoulder.

Blaine closes the door and collapses against it. Kurt laughs and crowds him for a few kisses. “That was rough.”

Kurt receives another kiss in reply, before he takes his hand and heads upstairs to check that Maria is still entertained in her own room, drawing.

“Ready?” He asks, holding his hand above Antonio’s closed door. Kurt nods and Blaine knocks. They wait for five seconds before opening the door. Antonio is sitting on the window ledge, in true pre-teen angst. It amuses Kurt, but he keeps it down.

“Nio, we’re gonna watch a movie, do you wanna join us?”

Even Kurt is surprised to hear those words. He thought they were going to have one of their frequent “You have to communicate and tell us things” chats. Antonio looks at Blaine like he’s insane.

“You can totally choose. And we’ll get some pizza or something. Yeah?”

Kurt can see the wheels turning in Antonio’s head and it hurts to realize that their son still doesn’t completely trust them, that he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Come on, if we let your sister choose we’re just gonna end up watching Enchanted again, and I just can’t…” Blaine shrugs, talking easily as if nothing’s wrong.

Antonio considers his options carefully. “Can we get Chinese instead?”

“Deal.”

They do end up watching Enchanted, and all because Antonio will never be able to say no to Maria. By the end of it she’s dead asleep, Kurt carding his fingers gently through her wavy black hair. Next to him he can feel Antonio’s tension. The boy is looking at the TV with too much intensity to actually be paying attention to Susan Sarandon’s dragon form destroying the skyscraper. Kurt glances at Blaine and notices he’s looking at Antonio as well. They exchange a look, and Blaine nods.

“Nio…” Blaine says, soft and slow.

The boy practically starts vibrating with anxiety, Kurt can virtually hear him thinking “here it comes again.”

“We’re sorry Alice keeps being… pushy and… unwelcoming towards you.”

He looks at Blaine like he can’t comprehend the words.

“So… I’m not grounded?”

“Of course you’re grounded. You pushed her. Violence is never okay.” Blaine smiles. “But kid, we’re not blind. We know it was her idea. But we can’t help you if you don’t talk to us. If you don’t tell us your side of things, what are we supposed to do, buddy?”

Antonio chews on his lip, and looks at his hands.

Kurt squeezes his shoulder. “You need to trust us. We will always be here for you. No matter what.”

He glances up, and Kurt can see it happening. He nudges just a tad more.

“We’re your dads. We’re always on your side.”

There! The moment Antonio chooses to give in. “She hit the man with the toilet paper.” He mutters through an exhale as if surrendering. “And he looked up and saw us, and he started walking to the door, so she said she was going to say it was me, and that you were going to give me back, and that I was probably a thief or something bad anyway, because my real parents didn’t want me, and it was all my fault that Maria was thrown out as well, because I was just so horrible they couldn’t stand us, and that she knew you’d do the same, and that she’d hoped it would be soon, I just… I’m sorry. I got angry, and I pushed her.”

“Antonio… honey, _none_ of that is true.” Blaine breathes, and Kurt knows he’s having a hard time controlling his emotions. Kurt is too.

“But you _love_ her! She’s your _favorite_ , and-”

“We love you, too!” Kurt says it so fiercely that Maria stirs. He gets himself back in check. “We don’t have favorites, Nio – this is not a competition. Listen, she’s our goddaughter, but you’re our _son_. Okay? Nothing will ever change that. You’re our _son_.”

Antonio’s chin trembles and he tries to wipe his first tear away as fast as it falls. “You always take her side.”

“You never give us yours.” Blaine pulls him close and kisses the top of his head. “We can’t take your side if you don’t tell us.”

“You wouldn’t believe me. No one ever does.”

“We will.”

“If you did you wouldn’t keep letting her come over.”

“Honey, I know you two aren’t getting along well. And we know it’s mostly because she’s not nice or welcoming to you. But you just need to realize that she was the only one for a long time. A _very_ long time. She got used to having everything her way, and now everything’s changed for her too.”

“She’s just a brat.”

“She’s not _just_ a brat. Sometimes she’s a brat, yes, but please don’t hate her just yet. Give her some time. She’ll turn around. You’ll see she can be pretty fun.”

“See? You’re still defending her! You don’t care about the truth.”

“We’re not…” Blaine sighs, clearly at a loss for how to continue. “Nio. Of course we care about the truth. And we know you’re telling us what really happened, and we’re on _your_ side. But unless you believe us too… We trust you. We really, really do. But that means nothing if you don’t trust us back.”

“What if she’s right?”

“She’s _not_.” Blaine stresses. “She was saying that to get you angry.”

“And she’s going to be grounded for that as well. Her behavior was not acceptable, either.”

“You’re not going to give us back?”

“That day in court, when we signed that paper. Remember? That meant _forever_. No matter what.”

“Besides,” Kurt scratches the back of Antonio’s neck soothingly, “you may not have realized this, but your dad has never once broken a promise to me. Not once. And we won’t either, to you. _I_ promise.”

“I guess.”

“Okay.” Kurt tries to maneuver himself so he’s on Antonio’s level, without waking Maria up, “Remember what Dr. Henshaw told you, right? You have to let us in. You have to believe us when we tell you we want you here. We’re never going to give up on you, no matter what you do or say.”

“I’m sorry.” he mumbles.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, honey. This is okay. This is normal. These things take time.” Kurt gives him a smile, tries to make it as reassuring as possible, but Antonio drops his eyes, more tears falling down.

“Do you want to watch another movie?” Blaine hooks a finger under his chin and makes him look up. Antonio shrugs. “That’s not an answer.” Blaine tells him, teasing him with a good smile. “Do you want to watch another movie? Just us three and maybe even some terrible-no good food that your dad never lets you eat after dinner?” Kurt shoots Blaine a half-glare, but then nods his consent when Antonio looks at him for confirmation.

“Yeah…”

“Well then, I’m going to put this little bug in bed, and this time you choose all by yourself.” Kurt announces, grunting slightly and he stands up, Maria in his arms.

“I wanted to watch the Harry Potter ones. She never wants to see those. She’s always scared.”

“ _That_ is an excellent choice, my friend.” Blaine grins, and then, without the hesitation that has come to characterize both Kurt and Blaine’s interactions with Antonio, he pulls his son into his lap and wraps his arms around the boy. Kurt watches with his breath held as Antonio tries to decide what to do, and then Kurt tries not to react visibly when the boy hugs Blaine back.

“I’ll put the DVD in as soon as I’m back from depositing the bug.” He offers, and is answered with the brightest smile on Blaine’s face. As he takes the stairs slowly he keeps his ears trained on his two fellas.

“But keep in mind, it’s not going to be as good as the book.”

Antonio scoffs – Kurt didn’t know he could scoff with humor. “Nothing could be as good as the book.”

“You _are_ my son.”


	2. Youth

_One of the things that have characterized Hummel’s work over the decades is the unmistakable humor. His scripts will tackle the most varied array of subjects, each more dramatic than the previous, and yet, at the end of the day, people are left laughing more often than not._

_It was exactly this ability to bring independent “dramedy” back to the map that earned him the sort of recognition very few screenwriters enjoy – name five screenwriters that aren’t also directors, I dare you. Many feared that, like most similar cases, Antonio had a limited amount of stories in him, and would easily peter out into one-hit wonder territory. But joke after joke, and heartfelt moment after heartfelt moment, Antonio Hummel was here to not only stay, but to further venture into TV and Theatre._

_All the while, his specific and unmistakable tone has never faltered._

_“Where do you feel like the humor comes from?”_

_He gives me a playful deadpan look. “When you have a family like I did, dull moments don’t come by often. That’s not always a good thing, sure, but more often than not it just taught us to loosen up and take things in stride.”_

-

Blaine is just about ready to throw a napkin over his head and pretend like he doesn’t exist anymore. Or that they don’t exist anymore. Why do they make the same mistake every year? Getting literally everyone together for Maria’s birthday party is murder on his patience and overall well being. It’s laboring under the blistering sun of an Ohio summer, while every part of their family offers their own two cents. Sure, they’re all well-intentioned, and sometimes they’re even right, but there are so many opinions that Blaine just wants to lock himself up in a dark room with a wet towel over his forehead and pretend he’s a fragile lady from the nineteenth century with consumption. Kurt is getting his own psychopathic gleam in his eye.

Every year, by the end of it they decided that next year they’ll hire and party planner and sit back, every year they go back on that because it doesn’t feel special and organic. So many regrets.

And it’s not even like Maria appreciates it that much, because she always ends up throwing another party in New York where all her friends are.

He spots Carole heading towards him with intent in her step, and skillfully disappears into the house. Why did they buy their holiday home in Ohio? Why did they think it was a good idea to be close to _everyone_?

He finds Kurt looking at an open closet, eyes squinted. “What are you doing?”

“Oh. Nothing. I’m pretending to do something so your mother won’t interrupt me.” He glances over his shoulder for signs of the nightmare. “You?”

“Same.” Blaine leans against the wall.

“Party planner next year?”

“For sure.” Blaine laughs.

Maria laughs too, turning the corner. “Yeah, right.”

“Or you could do it.” Kurt quirks an eyebrow. “Instead of pretending like this is a big favor you’re doing us… Letting us throw you this party.”

She smiles sweetly, the sarcasm of a fourteen-year-old well settled into her posture. “Daddy, thank you! For throwing a party for all of _your_ friends.”

Blaine bites his lip to keep from laughing. “And your family, you mean?”

She deflates somewhat, “I just think that every year you stress yourselves out for a party I’d be just as happy keeping small and simple. The real fun is back home, anyway.” She kisses Kurt on the cheek before he can say anything back and hurries away from them.

Kurt turns to Blaine with a crazed glint in his eye.

“She has a point, you know?” Blaine shrugs. “She’s growing up… family isn’t everything anymore. Friends are the priority right now and that’s… normal…? I don’t remember wishing for a family birthday party when I was her age.”

“Yeah, but your extended family was the worst.”

“Because hers – which by the way is not even actual family - is much better? Rachel making her sing scales every time she sees her and evaluating her on it?”

“Rachel promised me she’d stop it.”

“Ha!” Blaine rolls his eyes. “Besides, she hates being the center of attention, so what are we doing here?”

“Okay, fine… next year we keep it small. Just grandparents. And we do the big thing for the 4th of July.”

Blaine kisses him soundly. “Okay, I’ll go deal with my mother, and you go deal with Carole.”

Kurt draws a big breath, sighs loudly and makes a face. Blaine puts his hands firmly on his shoulders and directs him towards the back garden. And that’s when they hear it. The high pitched feedback from an electric guitar being plugged in.

“Did you hire a band?” Blaine frowns.

“I’m not that insane. That’s more of your mom’s league, okay?”

“Okay, can you stop hating on my mom for five seconds?”

Kurt opens his mouth to reply but he’s interrupted when a familiar instrumental track starts playing – very, very loudly – and then the guitar too – very, very badly – and a voice starts singing – very, very off key. It’s one of Blaine’s first big hits, one of the first love songs he wrote for Kurt, and it’s being very poorly covered by, from the sound of it, some teenage boy on their front lawn.

He hesitantly starts walking down the hallway to the front door, hand already reaching for the phone to call the police. This is not the first or the last time some crazy fan has tried to demonstrate their devotion to Blaine, but it is the first time it’s happened _here_. And Blaine can’t believe that now he’ll have to keep security around even in his super secret, middle of nowhere family vacation home in insignificant Ohio.

He peeks over the curtain. Definitely a teenage boy, with a bad case of punk wannabe – which makes no sense, because that is definitely not Blaine’s demographic. Everyone in the house has moved towards the windows to see what’s happening, and he shrugs to every single one when they all inevitably asked them what’s going on. He’s about to call the police, when Maria zooms right past him, yanks the front door open and just sprints through the front lawn until she’s reached the boy and his gear. She yanks at all the cables until the sound is gone.

The boy looks at her and Blaine cannot believe this.

His four-friggin-teen year old daughter was just serenaded by some punk-rocker wanna be with his own fucking song.

“Is what I think is happening actually happening?” Kurt gasps, as they look at Maria frantically gesturing between the boy and the house with a face so red that even from inside the house they can see it.

“Yeah.” Blaine’s not quite sure what the protocol in this situation is but he can’t just stand there, can he?

Exchanging one last weirded out look with Kurt, he opens the front door and steps outside. He moves slowly, trying not to frighten the kids.

“Maria, honey….” He calls, “What’s going on? Do you know this boy?”

Maria is frozen like a statue. Clearly mortified beyond words, and Blaine could melt with how adorable she looks, but he does have parenting to do. He hears Kurt stepping out behind him, as well.

Blaine walks over, still trying his best to look calm and cool. He reaches the boy and smiles as collectedly as he can without showing how ready he is to burst out laughing. “Hi. Can I ask you what this is about?”

The boy looks at him as if he’s seeing a ghost. He can’t be more than 15 – which is somewhat of a relief. His face is covered in spots and there’s eyeliner and a fringe, and it’s all so funny Blaine has no idea how much longer he can last. Probably longer than Kurt, though, who’s already trying to mask his chuckles with a cough.

“You’re… You’re… Blaine Anderson.”

“I am.” Blaine nods, hands in his pockets and a small shrug for punctuation.

“What-? Why? Why are you here?”

“Well. We come here every June, kind of a family holiday retreat.”

“What?”

“This is my house.” Blaine clarifies, and barely manages not to laugh. “What are you doing here?”

“But this is her house. Maria’s house.”

“Um, it will be when I die.”

“Brian, he’s my dad.” Maria whispers, her face beyond pink and into bright red.

Blaine didn’t know it was possible for a kid to look more mortified, but Brian sure proves him wrong.

“Maria, honey, can you help us get up to speed on this?” Kurt interrupts. He seems to have gotten himself mostly under control.

She mumbles something inaudible, eyes fixed completely on her feet.

“What was that?”

“He’s my boyfriend.” Maria rolls her eyes and makes an almost good job of staring them down and waiting for them to start yelling at her for dating or whatever it is she’s expecting of them.

“Oh…! Hi, Brian, is it?” the kid perks up and bravely attempts to look Blaine in the eye. He nods. Blaine holds out a hand, “It’s nice to meet you, Brian. Come on inside. Your audience is probably eager to congratulate you on a great performance of a true classic, if I do say so myself.”

“It’s her favorite song.”

“Brian, shut up!”

“Maria, don’t be mean.” Kurt teases. “It’s cute that it’s your favorite song. I like it too.”

“I’m sorry.” Brian says. “I just wanted to surprise her on her birthday… I didn’t mean- I didn’t know she…”

“Kid, it’s all good. We’ve all been there.” Blaine pats him on the back, and presses him gently to start walking. “But we have a party to prepare, so it’s not like we can stand here all day, come on. You chose to do this, so now you gotta face the music, kiddo.”

Maria looks at her dads like she wants to murder them both, but Kurt gives her a shrug and mouths “What? We’re being nice!”

The moment they pass through the door, Antonio’s riotous laughter is the first thing to hit. Blaine tries to shoot him a warning glare, but he’s pretty sure he just ended up looking like he wanted to join in.

Later that night – when Brian had been sent on his way back home (with a phone call to his parents and all things checked out) - Maria is slightly less tongue-tied.

“I’m so breaking up with him!” She groans over dinner (which is mostly just detox soup from all the cakes and sweets). Everyone laughs; she shoots them a murderous glare. “I’m mortified. Why would he do something like this? Boys are _so_ dumb.”

“He’s young and in love, sweetie!” Carole coos. “It’s very sweet.”

Antonio snorts and curls his lip in distaste. “It’s creepy. And it’s presumptuous. And entitled.”

“Hey there, Mr. Thesaurus.” John laughs, and turns to Blaine with a wink. “Just make sure to give her the talk.”

“Ugh, Grandpa!” both Antonio and Maria are in synchrony over that one.

“You didn’t give _me_ the talk.” Blaine shrugs. “I turned out fine.”

“They didn’t give _you_ the talk?” Cooper balks. “They gave _me_ the talk! Very thorough talk! It was traumatizing! This is so unfair.”

“Your brother was very self-informed and responsible, Cooper.” Claire shrugs, with a self-satisfied smile. “And he had a therapist who gave him the talk for us. It was bad enough giving you yours. We took the easy way out and there’s no regrets.”

Blaine nods. “That is true.”

“I gave Kurt pamphlets.” Burt smiles proudly.

“Don’t remind me.”

“Can we please stop this conversation?” Maria groans. “Like I said, I’m breaking up with him anyway. No need for any talk.”

“Yeah, right.” Antonio snickers. “I got one, you’ll get one.”

“We’ll be the judges of that, sweetheart.” Kurt winks, and she throws her spoon back in the bowl and crosses her arms over her chest.

“Don’t worry, it won’t be as bad as people make it out to be.” Blaine smiles.

“Oh, yes it will.”

“Antonio, shut up.”

“You know your dad once broke up with a boyfriend by throwing sneakers at his head? And ripped his sutures right open in the process.” Claire seems 100% proud of herself for turning every head towards her.

-

_Blaine Anderson might be the most famous of Hummel’s relatives, but he is certainly not the only. Hummel’s family was not only numerous, when family friends are included, but also peppered with colorful characters like Broadway Diva Rachel Berry, or outspoken Women Right’s lobbyist Tina Cohen-Chang. It’s not hard to imagine how family gatherings may have looked more like his classic climatic scenes that any of them would care to admit._

_“So, you have taken inspiration from your family, then?”_

_“Well, not necessarily in writing their stories, but definitely in mirroring the feeling of being them and with them.” He gives me a pointed look as if to say “Don’t go back to watch my films and start extrapolating.” So, I push a little further for clarification. “They just had this great positive attitude to life and they were there for each other.”_

_“Every family has their dysfunctions, but if you genuinely care about one another and take things as they come without always assuming the worst, then you can make it through all sorts of situations life puts you in. Some are easier than others, some are funny, and some not at all. But at the end of the day, my family made all of those worthwhile.”_

-

Blaine knocks softly on Antonio’s door. He inches it open, and finds Antonio putting on a pair of socks, already half-dressed for the day.

“Hey, bud.”

“Hey, dad.” Antonio looks at him half-confused. “Am I late or something?”

“No, I just need to have a chat with you.”

“Okay…” he says slowly, and Blaine makes sure to smile as reassuringly as possible. He sits on the bed, close to his son. “What’s up?”

Blaine bites his lip and tries to choose the right words to start with. He takes at least two deep breaths before he manages to start. “So, this is a little… hum, last night your dad got some bad news.”

Antonio’s back goes ramrod straight and he turns fully to Blaine, eyes intent on his.

“You know he had a doctor’s appointment. He’s had a couple now, because of his stomach pains.”

Antonio lets his breath out slowly. It isn’t hard to see where this is going. “Oh…”

“Yesterday, he was told that there is definitely something there. We’re waiting on the biopsy, but it looks like cancer.”

“Shit.”

“I know…” Blaine smiles sadly and squeezes his shoulder. “But listen, even if it is cancer, it’s a very early stage, it’s only in the stomach and the doctors seem extremely optimistic about it being operable and treatable. If it’s as early on as it seems right now, he might not even have to do chemo. Right now, they’re advising to just remove the stomach and leave it at that.”

Now it’s Antonio’s turn to take a few deep breaths before he turns back to Blaine and attempts his own smile. “Okay, okay. That’s good.”

“It is.” Blaine pulls him in for a second. “But your dad is scared. Understandably… His mother died of cancer. Not the same place, but still cancer, and she wasn’t much older than he is now. So, if he seems a little down, just, you know…”

Antonio nods. “I know.” He hugs Blaine again. “Thanks for telling me, dad.”

“Just hug him extra tight.”

“I will. Have you told Maria?”

Blaine nods. She took it better than expected, but still significantly worse than Antonio. “She cried. She’s scared. But I think she just needs a little time to get her head around it. Don’t worry.”

“Okay. I won’t.”

“Do you think you could come down for breakfast?” Blaine stands up. “I will be making pancakes and I was hoping we could all eat together. It’s been a while.”

Antonio grabs a shirt from his chair and gestures for Blaine to go first. They walk silently downstairs to the kitchen, only to find Kurt already there, clinging tightly to Maria. As they approach, Kurt looks up, his face streaked with tears. He reaches for Antonio who joins their hug without hesitation.

“I’m so sorry.” Kurt murmurs into his shoulder. “So sorry.”

“What are you sorry for, dad?”

“You were finally having a good life, I just- I don’t want it to-”

“Hey, hey, we’ll keep having a great life, cuz this is gonna be alright, okay?”

“I…”

“Dad, it’s early, and it’s treatable. You’ll be alright, okay?” Antonio stares Kurt down into a smile and Blaine can’t help but feel so much warmer at that. He turns to his sister next, “Dad will be fine. Why are we all collapsing into tears here? It’s going to fine, no need for the melodrama.”

Blaine catches his eyes and gives him a wink and a mouthed ‘Thank you’, before clapping his hands. “Alright, some awesome pancakes coming right up.” He announces grabbing his apron. “Chocolate? Blueberries? Plain? Hit me with your orders!”

“Chocolate.” Antonio and Maria say at the same time. “The answer is always chocolate, dad.” Maria giggles as she wipes her tears.

Blaine rolls his eyes, “Silly me.” He only stops on his way to the stove to land a deep, thorough kiss on Kurt. The kids complain, but he flips them off and makes a point of dipping Kurt, who completely ruins the effect by laughing and breaking the kiss.

-

_We’re going for the third round of coffee, so we switch to decaf and get some food. Hummel is sitting with legs crossed like a pretzel. He looks much younger than his 69 years. Just the fact that he can bend his legs that way at that age is unfair. I realize he is accidentally mimicking a classic Anderson picture from his own Vanity Fair profile piece in 2017._

_“I’m surprised how much you remind me of your father, physically.” I tell him, and I know this makes him happy._

_“That’s been a bit of theme in my life. Coming to terms with the fact that my biology wasn’t theirs. Understanding that there’s still other ways to have them in me. When I was a teenager it was just something that pained me. It hadn’t sunk in what I had connecting me to them. I mean, we were a family, and there was so much love and unyielding support, for sure, but as a teenager you have all these existential problems going on and I had that extra anguish, that I just wanted to be completely theirs.”_

_This is a theme that has indeed been integral to at least two of the feature films Hummel has penned, the second of which catapulted his career into the writing juggernaut that it is now, shining bright at all the right film festivals like Sundance, Toronto, and Berlin. The story of a young girl pushing herself to be as great a cook as her mother – but most importantly the story of someone pushing themselves towards a connection that at the end of the day was already there._

_“You know, in my home if there was one thing that was expected of people, it was a good set of pipes. Both my dads had tremendous talent, of course, everyone knows that, but so did all of their friends and closest relations, which they’d kept from high school days in glee clubs. So, you know, when the singing started, I would just sit next to my grandpa and that was pretty much the only person I felt understood me on those days.” He says this with more fondness than anything else. If it was ever a source of bitterness, it’s not anymore. “Sometimes that was all it took to make me feel like an imposter in my own home. It was crazy, but there’s not much control we had over those emotions – they’re just inevitable.”_

-

Kurt thinks ever since he became a parent he’s discovered a whole new level of being nervous – the level of being nervous for one’s kid. Like the time he literally took a day off work because he couldn’t cope with the stress of knowing Maria was stressed about taking her driver’s exam for the fourth time.

He taps his fingers on his leg as he barely watches whatever kid is up on that stage. Next to him, somehow, Blaine is being a functioning adult, and actually paying attention and appreciating every piece performed.

“How can you be so calm? This could be huge for him. He could get so many scholarships, so many offers…”

Blaine chuckles “I know what’s at stake. But I’m not nervous because he’s been practicing night and day, and I know he’s going to kill it. He always does.” And then he adds with a grin. "And it's not like he needs the scholarships."

“Ugh.” Kurt sticks his tongue out and cranes his neck to check on Antonio, sitting in the front row, waiting his turn. Only, Antonio isn’t there. “Where did he go? He’s up next!”

This does make Blaine falter. They discreetly look around the entire theater, but Antonio is nowhere to be seen.

“Maria, where’s your brother?”

She looks at the two of them and then checks to see what they’re talking about. When she notices, she frowns and then shrugs. “No idea… He was there like two minutes ago.”

The boy on stage is hitting the last few keys on the piano. Kurt turns to Tina and Alice and keeps his voice at the polite whisper, “Guys, did you see where Nio disappeared off to?”

Tina frowns and double-checks his empty seat. “I didn’t see him leave. He probably went to the bathroom…?”

Alice quirks her eyebrow, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she fishes out her phone and starts typing away just as the applause for the current performer breaks out.

“Shit.” Kurt gasps.

He looks to see Blaine standing up and gently, but quickly heading towards the exit. He follows.

They get some disapproving glares, but they eventually make it to the door when Antonio’s name is called. They pause for a second to check if he’s going to appear last second, but when he doesn’t they push the door open and step out into the theater hallway. It’s empty safe for a staff member rushing past.

Kurt grabs his own phone, but then Alice steps out right behind them.

“He freaked out.” She tells him, as if she’s commenting on the weather. She squeezes past the two of them. “He’s having a panic attack, or whatever, I got this.”

She doesn’t even wait for a response before she takes off clearly knowing where she’s going.

“He’s what?!” Kurt gasps, following her at once, Blaine on his heels.

“I got it, Kurt.” She reiterates, and as they turn a corner, they can see him at the end of the hallway, sitting on the floor, back to the wall and head between his knees.

“Nio!”

Kurt and Blaine start toward him at once, but Alice puts one hand on each of their chests. “No offense, but I doubt what he needs is a pep talk from the source of the problem, so. I got this.”

Kurt can’t even think for a second. “Excuse me?!”

But she’s already halfway there and Blaine holds him back.

“What did she just say?”

“Kurt, take it easy.” Blaine’s tone is slightly urgent, as Antonio is looking up and he does seem to get more stressed when he spots them. Blaine takes Kurt’s hand and pulls him back until they’ve disappeared out of sight.

“Did she just call us the source of the problem? What the hell?!”

“Kurt – calm down.”

“What’s even happening? This morning everything was fine! There wasn’t even any problem, let alone a source for it!”

“Well, given that our kid has his head between his legs and is currently skipping the most important recital he’s had so far…” Blaine gives him a tight smile. “We have to accept the chance that there might be a problem. One that we’re not aware of… and if he hasn’t talked to us about it…”

“And he’s talked to her about it?! He hates her.”

Blaine rolls his eyes. “He does not. He hates her like Santana hates Rachel. Which is not at all. Don’t be silly.”

Kurt opens his mouth but when he tries to think of things to shoot back he can’t. He deflates for a moment. “I know. But still… what the hell is happening?”

Blaine sighs and shrugs. “I don’t know, but I do suspect she’s right. I doubt we’re the right people to talk to him right now. So…”

“So, now what?”

“We wait.” Blaine scrunches up his nose and then crouches down and sits on the floor. Kurt considers it for two minutes before he groans and does the same.

They look like an absolute pair of losers.

After five minutes, Alice pokes her head round the corner and gives them a slightly apologetic smile.

“So, the big baby can’t really talk to you guys right now. I’m just gonna take him for ice-cream. Okay?”

“What? No, not okay.” Kurt glares.

She sighs and her smile is fully strained. “Uncle Kurt, this isn’t a request. Take my mom home, and we’ll take our car. He’ll talk to you later, but right now he’s just being a sissy and he needs to get it together.”

Blaine puts his hand on Kurt’s shoulder before he can argue back. “Okay, Allie.” He stands up with a grunt. “Try not to stay out too late.” He takes out his wallet and grabs a couple bills. “Dinner’s on us.”

She grins and takes the money. “Score.”

Blaine gives her a fond, but exasperated smile before he turns back to Kurt.

“Cmon, love. Let’s get back home.”

“But what about his performance?”

Blaine might as well be Alice right now with the look he gives him.

“Ha!” Alice laughs. “That ship has sailed.”

Blaine chuckles, takes Kurt hands and starts pulling him back to the door. He addresses Alice over his shoulder. “Just get him back home some time, and tell him we’re just confused, not at all angry.”

Alice gives him a mock salute and disappears back towards Antonio.

“Speak for yourself,” Kurt mutters. “I’m a little angry. He just threw away his best shot at the best programs in the country, and now he’s refusing to talk to us and tell us why.”

He knows he sounds like a petulant child and not the 40 year old man he is, and Blaine is clearly not letting that slide. He gives him a deadpan look and continues on his way back to their row. Kurt just shoves his hands in his pockets and waits for Blaine to signal Maria and Tina to join them.

Once they’re home, Maria is freaking out about as much as Kurt – which makes him feel slightly better until he realizes that he’s having the same reactions as a sixteen year old girl. He finds it in himself to calm down and tell her to stop being dramatic. He avoids Blaine’s eyes because he’s pretty sure Blaine is laughing at him on the inside.

Eventually, after they have dinner (take-out since they’d been planning on going out for dinner to celebrate), Maria goes off to her bedroom and Blaine simply gives Kurt a meaningful look and walks slowly to the couch. He pats the seat next to him and Kurt sighs loudly and makes a show of his sacrifice when he sits.

“It’s a sad day when our daughter and I behave the same way.” Kurt chuckles.

Blaine drops his head to Kurt’s shoulder and snuggles close. “Admitting is the first step.”

“Shut up.”

“It was an intense day.” Blaine shrugs and winds his arm with Kurt’s, squeezing his hand. “Everyone was nervous from the start. High stakes…”

Kurt nods and kisses the top of Blaine’s head. They sit in silence for a while. Kurt would’ve thought Blaine had fallen asleep, but every time he glances down to check he finds him chewing his lip, his eyes wide open.

Finally, Kurt can’t help himself. “He had a panic attack…?” he gasps, his heart breaking at the thought of his son going through those kinds of feelings.

Blaine breathes in deeply and cuddles in. “It’ll be okay.”

“We’re the source of the problem?”

“Love…” Blaine pulls back and takes Kurt’s face between his hands. “We’re good parents. Whatever it is, it will be okay.”

Kurt nods, but his chest is still hurting. “I still… can’t stand waiting like this. He’s gonna give _me_ a panic attack.”

Blaine smirks. “One might even say, you don’t have the stomach for this.”

“Oh my god, Blaine!” Kurt practically yells – but he can feel the laughter coming. Blaine is looking triumphant already, hand sneakily going under Kurt’s shirt to tickle him over the scar. Kurt makes a theatrical, but useless attempt to stop it. “It’s been like two years – that joke has got to go.”

“That joke is golden.” Blaine continues his tickling, even though it’s more of a heavy groping by now.

“It’s not fair because there are no jokes for missing kidneys.” Kurt pouts and Blaine kisses it off.

At least he’s definitely taken Kurt’s mind off his own anxiety, and Kurt is more than happy to give into it. He sneaks his hand across the couch, curls it around a pillow and swiftly smacks Blaine over the head with it. Blaine pulls back with a dramatic gasp and tries to pry the pillow away from Kurt’s hands. They’re locked in a struggle for it when the sound of a key sliding into the lock stops them in their tracks.

They jump apart, just as it opens, and Kurt just barely manages to pull his shirt back down before Antonio appears.

“Hey…”

“Hey, buddy.” Blaine smiles his ‘I’m trying not to pressure you into anything but I want us to talk’ smile.

Kurt is less careful. “Nio, can we have a sit down and talk about today?”

“If that’s okay.” Blaine adds, and Kurt shoots him a half-glare.

Antonio takes a deep breath and holds it in for a while. Finally, he nods, exhales and crosses the living room to where they are. He sits on the coffee table in front of them, wringing his hands together and staring at his feet.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” He finally says. Kurt stays silent, knowing better than to start pressing now. Blaine seems to share his opinion, because he just leans down to try and catch Antonio’s eye and smile. “The piano, I mean. And the music… just in general. I don’t… I can’t do it anymore.”

“Oh.” It’s a reflex and Kurt kind of regrets it, but Antonio is now looking at him kind of waiting for a reaction. He flounders. “I- we thought that’s what… you loved. You’ve been playing since you were nine.”

Antonio bites his lip and shakes his head minutely. “It’s what you guys love.”

“What?”

“I wanted to have something with you two, and… when dad asked me if I wanted him to teach me I said yes, because I thought it’d make him happy.”

Kurt glances at Blaine to realize he’s suddenly looking very pale, and this whole thing is about to invert. He slips his hand into Blaine’s.

“And then it made me happy!” Antonio hastens to add when he too must notice the way Blaine’s eyes have gone wide with panic. He goes back to looking at the floor, but the words are flowing out of him a mile a minute. “I really liked it! But I liked it because I was doing it with you, and we were connecting. I just wanted you guys to be proud of me, and every time I nailed a new piece, you were, and I just… I kept going because I started feeling like I needed that. But then all of those fancy teachers, and the summer camps, and… I don’t… I can’t do it for the rest of my life. It’s just not what I love, and I know that’s disappointing to you, but I… I was looking up at that stage and at all those scouts in the front row and I freaked. I couldn’t. I can’t. I just can’t pretend anymore.”

Antonio makes a visible effort to look at them and he gasps when he looks at Blaine. Kurt does too and, shit. He’s crying. Antonio’s eyes go bright at once, and this is turning into a disaster fast.

“I’m sorry, dad, I’m so sorry. I never wanted to disappoint you, I didn’t, I’m sorry. I-”

“No!” Blaine mumbles and makes a valiant effort at composing himself, quickly wipes his tears away. “Of course you didn’t. I’m not disappointed in you, Nio. Not one bit. I’m disappointed in myself.”

“What? No-, this is stupid. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I did if you thought you needed to keep doing something you didn’t love for me. To connect with me.”

“With us.” Kurt corrects him, his own throat a little tight.

“No, you guys aren’t… No. That’s not it – or at least not anymore. I just… things with Maria for you were always so easy, and I just wanted it to be like that. And… it was. The first time we sat down at a piano, and the first time I played an entire song for you both, and… I felt like I was your son.”

Blaine buries his face in his hands, and even though Kurt knows it’s all he can do, it doesn’t help with Antonio who’s looking guiltier by the second. He takes Antonio’s hands in his. “You were always our son. We loved you, and you loved us and that was all it took. It still is.”

“Did we not give you that feeling?” Blaine whispers, sounding scared of the answer.

“Of course you did! But that’s exactly why I wanted it! To be part of you! To be yours, like… 100% yours. I was so happy here and I was proud to be your son, but I had no idea what I did to deserve it, and I was just…”

He doesn’t find the rest of the sentence because Blaine just grabs him by the shoulders and pulls him into a crushing hug. Antonio gives in at once, and before Kurt knows what happened Antonio is sobbing, and even though there’s no way of knowing Kurt has a feeling it’s relief pouring out of him. Kurt smiles and cards his fingers through Antonio’s hair. The boy turns his head to look at Kurt, letting his cheek rest against Blaine’s shoulder.

“Whatever you want to do, we’re right behind you. It’s not your job to be who we want you to be. It’s _our_ job to be there for who _you_ want to be. Okay?”

Antonio nods and swallows thickly. “Thank you. I was… I just… I didn’t know how to… Thank you.”

“You can choose anything. As long as it’s what _you_ want.”

Antonio screws his eyes closed, and clings harder.

“You know what I just realized?” Kurt whispers, and both Antonio and Blaine pull back enough to look at him properly. Kurt reaches out to wipe his son’s tears away. “We never sang you a lullaby.”

Antonio sputters a laugh.

“No, I’m serious. We used to sing them for your sister every night, but you were skittish at first and then too old for it to be cool, so we never sang you a lullaby.” He smiles and pats his lap. Antonio rolls his eyes and starts coming up with a refusal, but Kurt will have none of it. “Come on.” He pulls a pillow onto his lap and stares Antonio down until the boy is maneuvering his body, his head on Kurt’s lap and his feet on Blaine’s.

Kurt buries his fingers in his hair before he draws breath.

“ _There was a boy,”_ he starts and Blaine reaches over to take his hand and join him, _“a very strange enchanted boy_ ,” their sing it in a soft whisper. “ _They say he wandered very far, very far, over land and sea_.” He brushes Antonio’s hair off his forehead, and smiles as he sings, “ _A little shy, and sad of eye, but very wise was he_.”

“ _And then one day, one magic day he passed my way_ ,” if their voices break on the word magic, it’s only understandable, “ _and while we spoke of many things, fools and kings, this he said to me_ ,” Blaine slides from under Antonio’s legs, until he’s kneeling right in front of him, hand over Kurt’s on his cheek, “ _the greatest thing you’ll ever learn, is just to love and be loved, in return_.”

They finish slowly, and as softly as they started, Antonio smiles and nods his understanding.

“Music doesn’t have to be your thing.” Blaine tells him. “It’s ours, sure, but it’s not the only thing we love, and if it’s not yours there’s plenty of other ways for us to connect. Most of all because we love each other. And we _like_ each other.”

“Okay.” Antonio breathes. “Thank you. Thank you for getting it. I’m also just… scared, because I have no idea what I do want. Like, seriously, guys. No idea. I’m sorry I wasted so much time…”

“No time wasted.” Kurt tells him, bringing a lighthearted tone back to his voice. “You’re young. So young! You have your whole life ahead of you, and you’re going to figure it out.”

“And have fun doing it.”

“Okay….” Antonio lets out a long breath and pushes himself back to sitting. “God. I feel like I could sleep for a week now. Like… So much better, but still for like a week at least.”

They all chuckle and Blaine stands up, offering him a hand up as well. “Go to bed and get some rest. Don’t worry about anything tonight.”

With a nod and half a smile Antonio starts towards the bedrooms. Kurt and Blaine watch him leave. He can sense that Blaine is still not 100% recovered himself and he knows they’ll stay up all night talking. He gets up and heads to the alcohol cabinet, just as Antonio pauses halfway up the stairs.

“I’m _really_ glad I’m your son.”

-

_I mention how he still managed to find his own way to make art. Not necessarily follow in his father’s footsteps but keep connected to creation. This makes him laugh and sigh wistfully. Is there every any other option, when you’re surrounded with talent everywhere?_

_“In a way, I’ve always admired my sister and her ability to not let our sort of weird, larger than life family mess with her head.”_

_Maria Hummel has always been the most elusive member of the family – more elusive even than her grandparents or her borrowed cousin, Alice, who have never truly shied away from social media or any sort of spotlight when it comes **.**_

_“I don’t know if I acted as a buffer for her, or if she’s just that much more sure of herself – probably the second option, if I’m being honest – but she found her place in our home with just so much ease and almost no personality crisis.” He laughs self-deprecatingly, making it clear that was not his case at all._

_“She was younger, which makes things easier, sure. But she was also never interested in being anyone other than herself, which made my parents’ life easier as well. They just had to support her choices, because they didn’t need to worry if it was for anyone other than herself.”_

_His admiration for Maria is very clear. He stresses how it’s remarkable when kids in families like theirs – where everyone is a creative force with overflowing ambition – manage to not let that set their future. He has a point. When was the last time a celebrity’s kid didn’t try their hand at acting or a hit single?_

-

Kurt raises his glass of champagne as he stands. “Maria, here’s to years of hard work and brilliance! We’re so proud of how well you’ve done! I’m sure wherever you go next we’ll be just as good, if not a better adventure!”

“Hear, hear!” John beams.

Everyone around the table gives their own little word of agreement, and lean over to clink glasses together. Maria’s cheeks are nice and pink, so Kurt pushes it no further. His work as an embarrassing dad is done. He’s just lucky his daughter is this averse to any and all sorts of attention.

“Thanks, dad.”

“But, if you want to pretend you’re an ordinary kid out of college with no clear future plan and come back home for a bit, that’s alright, too.” Blaine winks, and Kurt nods vehemently.

Everyone laughs some more.

“Okay, don’t start acting like we’re neglecting you guys.” Antonio gives them an exasperated smile.

“Yeah, dad. We’re all practically neighbors.”

“You made sure of that.” Antonio downs his last sip of champagne, and then smiles wider, mirthful. “And don’t forget I overheard you tell Aunt Tina that it was nice to get the whole house back to yourselves and your nasty sex addicted ways.”

“Ew! Nio! We were supposed to forget about that.”

Blaine has the decency to blush, but Kurt is past that point. He smiles to himself and mentally high fives in congratulatory fashion.

“I remember those times, too.” Claire pretends to sigh and swoon. “When Blaine left for college! It was like a whole new world. Or at least one we’d forgot about.”

“Grandma.” Antonio gives her a harsh look, and John facepalms.

“You opened the pits of hell.” Blaine shoots back at him.

“I am a sad, dumb person.” Antonio nods, and tops up his glass with the last of the champagne.

“Rude.” Kurt mutters, receiving a teasing wink from his son in reply, as he raises the glass to his lips.

The waiter approaches, noticing the empty bottle. “Shall I get you another bottle?”

As much as Kurt would love some more delicious fizzy alcohol, he sighs, looking around the table and noticing every plate is mostly empty. “No, thank you. Just the check, please.”

They talk for a little bit more before eventually leaving the restaurant, and going for a walk around Central Park. Carole calls so she and Burt can talk for a little bit with Maria and apologize for not feeling well enough to come and make her promise to visit soon, and right after they bid goodbye, she gets another phone call and disappears for a little while. The only reason no one teases her about her boyfriend Jace is because she’s suffered enough – a whole day dedicated to celebrating her achievements is like a special brand of torture designed specifically for her. Instead, Claire and John bid them goodbye and go to their own small New York apartment, while Kurt and Antonio start deciding on the movie they’re going to watch back home.

“Why are you debating this?” Blaine is lying on his back in the grass and taking in the sun. “It’s her day, her choice.”

“She has terrible taste.” Antonio points out.

“She’s always had terrible taste.” Kurt agrees. “I don’t know what we did. It must be genetic.”

“Excuse you.” Antonio shoves at him playfully. “I have excellent taste.”

“She does it on purpose.” Blaine shrugs.

Kurt laughs. “I wish she did. I wouldn’t feel so guilty about raising someone like that.”

“No,” Blaine opens one eye so he can give Kurt a look. “She really does it on purpose. She told me.”

“What? No, she doesn’t. Why would she do that? If she hates those as much as we do, she’s torturing herself for what?”

“The knowledge that you two intellectual snobs are suffering.” Blaine closes his eyes back up, a hint of a smug smile playing on his lips.

“You’re full of shit.”

The smile blooms fully. “She told me that that time I picked her up when she was super drunk at that frat party. She was scared we were going to be disappointed in her and I was trying to do the whole ‘we’re not mad, we’re just glad you’re safe and to prove it we can just watch a movie and bond’ thing, and she said she didn’t want to watch another shitty movie just to mess with you guys that night.”

Kurt and Antonio both gasp in outrage, Blaine only smiles wider.

“What’s up, guys?” Maria’s voice cuts in, as she approaches them again.

“Traitor!”

“You have tarnished the sanctity of movie bonding with your petty mind games of pseudo karma!” Kurt accuses, standing up so it can carry a little more weight.

Her shoulders drop and she turns to Blaine.

“You told them?!”

He finally moves, grunting a little as he sits all the way up. “They were insulting you,” he offers. “You should have heard the kind of low blows. Sometimes they really have to know what you’re punishing them for, hon. Otherwise it doesn’t work – it just reflects badly on you.”

She doesn’t look entirely assuaged, but she rolls her eyes and shrugs. “Whatever, it’s still my choice and we’re totally watching a Razzie winner.”

Blaine laughs as he starts standing up but Kurt pushes him back down. Antonio is amused by that, and Kurt feels significantly better.

“Rude.” Blaine mutters, making a show of getting back up. Kurt gives him his own smug smirk, and Blaine reaches out to grab his wrist and pull him close enough to lick his cheek.

“Gross!” Kurt wipes it with his sleeve and before he knows it Blaine is yanking him close again, but this time he kisses his cheek.

Antonio comes and stands firmly between them, and everyone laughs. The conversation turns back to berating Maria all the way back home. However, she has not budged in her resolution by the time they get there and Blaine is still firmly in support of her trickery as he refuses to change the film while she excuses herself to use the bathroom.

Kurt decides that if he’s going to suffer through it he might as well change into his comfiest pajamas, and goes upstairs for it. Blaine asks him to bring his own but Kurt tells him he doesn’t help traitors, and Blaine must not want his pajamas that bad.

Blaine is calling for them to just hurry up, when Kurt is coming back to the living room, bare feet padding against the hardwood floor, when he’s passing Maria’s room and hears an alarm go off and then a very distinctive, “Shit.” It doesn’t sound silly or simple.

He hesitates, but in the end he can’t help it. He knocks softly and opens the door. He does so in time to see Maria scrambling in a panic, looking for something. She freezes as she notices him. And then he freezes as he notices what she’s holding. A thin, white stick. A very unmistakable type of white stick.

“Maria?!” He gasps. “Is that-”

She comes back to life and hurriedly dumps it in the trash.

“Are you pregnant?”

She looks back at him with wide, panicked eyes.

“Honey… are you pregnant?”

“What?!” Blaine’s voice makes both of them jump. He’s standing right at the landing, looking at Kurt in pretty much the same way he’d just been looking at Maria.

“Fuck.” Maria breaks the silence. “I’m just gonna go.”

“What? Honey, no!” Kurt manages to grab her elbow as she pushes past him. “What’s going on? Why were you taking a pregnancy test?”

“I knew I should’ve waited till the morning for it, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” Maria mutters as she gently shakes her arm of his grip and walks around Blaine, towards the stairs. “Sorry, guys. I’m just…”

“No, Maria, you’re not.” Blaine hurries to follow her. “You’re not going home, because we need to talk about this.”

She stops and looks back at them. “There’s nothing for _us_ to talk about, dad. _I’m_ pregnant!”

Kurt can’t even filter his words. “But how is that even possible? Jace is trans!”

“We were on a break!” She practically yells – which is a clear sign of her distress. She never yells. “We were on a break and I’m an idiot and I made a mistake.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

“You broke up with Jace?” Blaine frowns. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Is that really the pressing issue right now?” She deadpans. “We didn’t break up, we took some time apart, and I didn’t tell you because you like worship the ground he walks on, and I know you’d be disappointed, and now he’s definitely going to dump me forever, and you’re definitely disappointed.”

“What?” Kurt inches closer, afraid to scare her into flight again. “Honey, we don’t worship- okay, that’s silly, we wouldn’t be disappointed in you for breaking up with Jace. We like him, but if it’s not working out, then that’s what it is.”

“And we’re not disappointed now.” Blaine adds. “We just want to talk. So… can we?”

She looks at them like she’s considering just bolting, but instead she sags and nods, turning to go downstairs like a defeated soul. Kurt and Blaine exchange a glance, and Kurt’s relieved to find Blaine just as clueless as he is.

They reach the living room to find Antonio has absolutely overheard everything and is about as awkward as anyone would be in that situation, but they persevere. Everyone takes a seat, and Kurt turns off the TV.

The conversation starts slow and stilted. It’s hard to know what to think, let alone say. But eventually Kurt can feel himself and Blaine finding their footing.

“This isn’t exactly our first surprise pregnancy.” Kurt tells her. “And when Aunt Tina got knocked up we were kids, scared and kinda broke.”

“I know…” Maria mutters.

“And we still made it work, so…” Blaine gives her one of those smiles that makes anyone feel so much better, “We’re here for everything you need.”

“I know…” she says again. And then she slowly lifts her eyes to look at them. Kurt can see her gathering courage. “But what if I don’t want it?”

“Our help?” Blaine frowns before Kurt can stop him.

“No. The…” Maria swallows, and Kurt schools his features to remain neutral. “The baby. What if I don’t want to keep it?”

“Oh.” Blaine’s eyebrows rise and for a moment Kurt holds his breath, and then thankfully there’s no deep frown, instead he nods. “Okay. I’m sorry, of course. That’s an option, too.”

“If you feel like that’s the right thing to do, Maria…” Kurt reaches over for her hand, “We’re going to support you in whatever you choose to do now.”

Some of the tension in her bones dissipates. “Do you think… do you think it’s selfish of me to have an…? I mean, I-”

“No.” Antonio interrupts. “It’s not. You and I both know, it’s not.”

She looks at him and nods, yet more relief sipping in. “I don’t know… but… I think… I just. I need to think about it, alone.”

“Okay.” Kurt smiles.

“But when I saw… that it was positive… all I could think about was where… where the nearest clinic was.” She looks up at them with wet eyes.

Kurt slides over to her and gathers her up in his arms.

Antonio reaches over and takes her hand. “There’s no wrong or right answer, here. The only mistake would be not doing what _you_ feel like you need to.”

“It’s your life.” Blaine offers softly.

She nods and buries herself further into Kurt.

They end up watching the film, in the end. And then a few others, two weeks later, while Maria holds a bottle of hot water to her stomach and falls in and out of sleep curled up in the couch. Kurt and Antonio never again criticize her choices, but she still enjoys forcing everyone through a little torture – especially because she knows that more often than not they actually enjoy them, just not enough to relinquish the dignity of being snobs.


	3. Adulthood

_Being a celebrity’s child certainly has its advantages. Doors open easily, money is no issue, and every little whim can be a dream come true. Antonio and Maria Hummel certainly don’t seem to fit the mold of the celebrity brat, but they’ve never denied how lucky they’ve been to have had the parents they did. They’ve been more muted about the drawbacks – Hummel does mention the lack of privacy and the extra pressure it put on them, but he doesn’t elaborate. Maybe he doesn’t want to seem ungrateful, or maybe there really weren’t drawbacks because when I ask him about that he just shrugs._

_“To be honest, I’ve always felt like the worst part of it, was knowing that there were videos of my dad singing explicit songs about my other dad, or even just covering some of the most embarrassing choices for concerts.”_

_“I mean, sure he was an adequate dancer, but would you enjoy watching your classmates swooning over your parent’s gyrating hips?”_

_It’s one thing to be a celebrity’s child, it seems, and another altogether if that celebrity is a sex symbol._

_“I think that was everyone’s least favorite part – not just mine. They may have cheered for him, but I knew grandpa always pretended those songs didn’t exist.” He smirks and laughs as he talks about this, which definitely takes away from his argument that it incurred any sort of pain past moderate embarrassment. “Of course, that only amused dad and he always backed up this specific brand of torture he imposed on us under the guise of social activism and the importance of trivializing gay sex, especially the older he got.”_

_So, Blaine Anderson was a saucy minx and he liked to embarrass his family for it, it seems. This may yet be my favorite development of the day._

-

Blaine looks around himself, and takes a deep breath. So many people – all of them smiling, singing, dancing, happy. He closes his eyes and throws his head back a little, takes in his surroundings. The slightly damp warmth of New York in June – the bright sun practically burning his skin, and probably leaving him flushed and sweaty. The smell of too many people, and New York in general, but also candy and hairspray and a thousand different perfumes, colognes, cosmetics; the smell of leather makes him laugh. The sound of at least three different songs being played at the same time, all of them too loud, but not enough to drown the thousands of voices singing along. The whooping and hollering crowd below him.

He’d planned on taking a brief moment for himself, but instead he can’t remember how long he’s been standing with his eyes closed, breath held. The cool metal bar he’s been holding himself steady on has warmed up to his hands. He gives himself another moment – another few moments – but a hand lands softly on his lower back and pulls him out of it.

He look at Kurt, his cheeks decorated with glittery rainbows, and smiles.

“It’s so different from up here, isn’t it?” Blaine asks.

Kurt shrugs and nods. “Still fun.”

“It’s Pride, of course it’s fun.” Blaine laughs. “Better here or in the crowd?”

Kurt gives him a deadpan look, “Hum, are you asking me if I prefer to be center stage all eyes on me while I rock this amazing outfit and dance next to my superstar of a husband, while being literally paraded through New York in a gigantic float, or being in the middle of a sweaty crowd trying to see anything at all or just find some kind of shade I can sit in and try to survive heat, hunger and exhaustion?”

Blaine laughs and lands his hand squarely on Kurt’s face, pushing it away.

“It’s such a close call!”

With a roll of his eyes (he knows Kurt is kidding – he enjoys Pride almost as much as Blaine every single year), he chuckles and turns back to the crowd, doing his duty of waving around. “I am glad you’re up here with me, this time.”

“Oh, no!” Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine’s neck (the crowd grows louder), “I loved being down there and knowing you were looking at me, and only me, in a crowd of millions!”

Blaine smiles, kisses him quickly. “You are especially vain today.”

Kurt grins and pulls away. “Someone asked me if I was thirty five today.”

“And so you’re behaving 15?” Blaine teases, “Makes sense.”

Single Ladies starts and Kurt doesn’t even miss a beat as he starts waving his hand in Blaine’s face. “You still put a ring on it.”

Blaine nods, admitting defeat. Kurt sort of transitions to the full choreography (how he still knows this, is beyond Blaine), and Blaine just opens his arms gesturing for the crowd to observe the brilliancy of his husband. The cheers are strong and fulfilling.

He gets his phone and starts recording before he misses it completely, Kurt throws him enough sultry looks to make this a strong contender for post of the day. As it winds down, Blaine turns the camera to himself and grins, “I did put a ring on it.”

He’s putting the phone back in his pocket when it buzzes with a text from Maria. “Look to the right of the float! First row! xxxxx”

Blaine leans slightly over the railing squinting, and instructing Kurt to do the same. They spot them almost at the same time. Maria wearing the most ridiculous bright pink wig, and her brother a rainbow bandana around his forehead. Behind them are Petey and Suzanne, their body guards, appropriately dressed down and even maybe – just maybe - enjoying themselves, as well as…

“Are those Carole and my mom?” Blaine shouts over the loud crowd.

Kurt waves at the group enthusiastically and turns to Blaine excitedly, “Surprise!”

Blaine grins, and reopens the camera on this phone, turning around. They take a selfie with the dots in the crowd that are his family. They wave some more and blow kisses, but the float has to keep moving and eventually they’re out of sight.

Blaine smiles, “They do know we have the after party, right?”

“They’re staying till tomorrow night, so we can have a good family meal.” Kurt nods. “But come on, they’re not that embarrassing that you can’t get them tickets for your own big gay bash.”

Blaine chuckles. “I don’t know. The last time I let my mom tag along to a celebrity event she told Justin Timberlake about my proposal letters.”

“Hum…” Kurt shrugs, affecting the worst nonchalant expression ever. “I think I’ve also mentioned that.” He rolls his eyes at himself, and shrugs again. “A few times.”

“God. I can’t take you guys _anywhere_.”

A new song starts – one from Blaine’s second album, a very graphic one from Blaine’s album, that makes him glad they’ve pulled away from the family – and Kurt takes that as his cue to go back to dancing.

“Oh, well…” Blaine sighs, laughs and joins him so they can show all those excruciatingly young and limber kids down there how it’s done. He happens to be enjoying his new salt and pepper hair, and he’s pretty sure Kurt is too. Forty three is totally the new twenty three, and they’re not gonna stop grinding and dancing like the sexual couple they are just because sometimes Blaine’s knee protests a little.

And by a little he means the next day he’s kind of limping his way around the house because he should not have dropped it that low. Damn stupid knee and the day he decided to finish a concert by collapsing on it and broke it.

His mom gives him a teasing look as they goodbye and he sticks his tongue out at her. “Mature,” she says, and then does it back.

After the door is closed and the house quiet again, he stands in the hall for a little bit. He closes his eyes, tips his head back and breathes the weekend in. No one interrupts him this time – Kurt is showering upstairs, and Blaine listens to the patter of water against the floor and his body, the only sound in the entire house.

He finally pulls himself back to life, smiling to himself.

He pulls out his phone, chooses the best selfie from yesterday and sends it to the printer. By the time he’s reached the office the photo is already there in the tray looking up at him. He takes it and goes back to the living room, grabbing the Pride photo album.

He flicks absentmindedly through the years. Years and years of selfies of him and his dad. Sometimes Kurt, too. Sometimes Burt and Kurt. Sometimes his mom as well. Sometimes the whole family. But always, always him and his dad. He reaches the last page with a photo, standing next to this year’s blank page. Blaine and his dad smiling up at the camera, Maria blowing a kiss right next to her granddad, and Antonio standing taller than everyone else, arm outstretched as he takes it, signature five o’clock shadow and crooked smile in place.

Blaine touches the picture with feather light fingertips, and smiles back at all of them. Happy, there, complete, so full of life.

He looks back at the blank page next to it, and pauses for a long sigh. Careful not to wrinkle anything, he glues the new photo on the page and looks at them, side by side.

With slow careful movements he writes the date below it, and when bittersweet nostalgia has given way to grief, he can’t handle it anymore and closes the album. Two seconds go by before he opens it back up again. He swallows the first sob, closes his eyes and tips his head back.

“I miss you.”

-

_Eventually, I suppose, I should ask him about the actual subject for the interview. His new TV show that has made the biggest splash of the season. It’s been green lit for another two seasons right off the bat, and is a favorite for award season. A family drama like TV hasn’t seen in years._

_What sets it apart from other shows about similar themes is its undeniably, heartwarmingly kind, strong, interesting good characters. It’s not yet another show drenched in cynicism and gritty realism. Many have called it a reprieve, a break from a discourse of hopelessness and a light at the end of the tunnel._

_“Times are hard, and it’s not easy to keep faith in humanity, many of us can feel helpless, voiceless, but I think sometimes all that we need is a little inspiration to be our better selves.”_

_This is not something that should surprise you, if you’ve followed Hummel’s career. His characters are not just consistently well-rounded, but he refuses to let them become caricatures of the pessimistic times we live in. Where there is darkness, there is also always light. The heavy gets balanced by the humor, the kindness, the nurture._

_Idealism is sometimes associated to naïve teenagers, but that’s certainly not something you can accuse Antonio Hummel of. One can only assume his life has taught him to stick to his guns and not bend to an uninspiring industry._

-

Blaine cracks his back, taking one small moment of reprieve while washing his hands from rejected mashed potatoes. It was easier taking care of kids when he was in his twenties.

“I hate toddlers.” Kurt sighs as he passes by, following the quick patter of tiny feet.

Blaine chuckles, and takes a little extra time drying his hands before he follows Kurt’s pursuit. Thankfully, though, Kurt has already picked up Audrey, the beast, and deposited her safely in the playpen.

They take a moment to breathe. And then Blaine turns towards the couch, only to notice a familiar scrapbook on Elle’s knees. It better not.

“Whatcha reading?”

Their seven year old granddaughter looks up from the pages. She grins. “Letters!”

Blaine resists the urge to face palm. “Honey, those aren’t… You can’t read those.”

“Why not? They’re funny!”

“They’re private.” He mutters. But sits down next to her and tries to think of a way to play this game. “Well, those are letters that me and grandpa wrote to each other.”

He can see Kurt in his periphery; interest suddenly peaked as he turns to look at the spot on the shelf that is most definitely empty. They need to move the book to the top.

“You wrote this?” Elle asks, and Blaine knows she’s playing dumb, because her little chubby finger is pointed right at his name signed on it. He skims the body of the e-mail and tries not to wince visibly. It’s the one where Blaine is teasing Kurt for being a prude about sex.

How long has she been reading these?!

“Yes, I did.” He gets out through gritted teeth.

“You use bad words.”

Blaine just smiles at her, and he hopes it’s not coming off as fake as it feels. He looks at Kurt who has completely forgotten about Audrey and is now watching them with interest.

“I did.” He nods.

“Grandpa Kurt, too.”

“He did, too.” Blaine nods. “We were grown ups. It’s okay, when you’re a grown up.” He keeps himself from wincing. He glances up and Kurt is definitely wincing. “But only sometimes. Not all the time.”

She nods, as if considering the subject. Finally she looks back and smiles big and wide. “What’s sex?”

Bitch.

He rubs his face, hiding it as he mouths just about every swear word he can think of. Kurt had suddenly and conveniently become very interested in Audrey.

“Well. You know where babies come from?”

Elle thinks for a second. “Mommy’s belly.”

“Right.”

“But daddy has to put the seed in it.”

“Yes. Well, when daddy puts the seed in the mommy, that is called sex. When he’s… doing it.”

How have they got to this stage of life without ever preparing for this conversation? Maria had been on their own terms, with the proper books and practiced phrases, and in phases.

“Oh! Okay.”

“Okay.” Blaine nods. And waits for a second before he lets relief wash over him. That was not entirely bad.

He yanks the book out of her lap before she even knows what’s happened, and slams it closed.

“You’re going to have to wait a few more years before you can read this. And even then, we advise you against it. But that’s just for your own good.” Blaine says in a single breath and puts the book on the top shelf. It might have been a mistake, because she’s now looking intently at him.

“So… sex is when the daddy puts the seed in the mommy?”

“Yup.”

“So, which one of you is the mommy?”

Kurt’s face palm is audible, and Blaine just glares at him. “Anytime you want to jump in, Kurt. Anytime.”

“I say we call Nio. It’s been 48 hours. That’s plenty of alone time.”

Blaine rolls his eyes and turns back to Elle. “Why do you ask?”

“Mommy said she interrupted you guys having sex when she called on Thursday.” She looks at them, clearly waiting for a response, but both of them are currently experiencing short circuits in their brains. “She didn’t know I was there.” She adds.

“Okay.” Blaine nods. “So, well, you don’t really have to put a seed in mommy for it to be sex. Sometimes, it’s two men having sex, or two women, and in that case no one puts a seed in anyone.”

“Then how do you make the baby?”

“You don’t.”

“Then what’s the point?”

“Kurt, _please_.”

“Fine.” Kurt sits on the arm of the couch. “When you’re a grown up, and _only_ when you’re a grown up, and also usually when you really like the other person, sex is nice. It’s fun. So, sometimes, you do it, not to make a baby, but just to have fun.”

“Oh.” She considers this. “Okay. So, when I grow up I could do sex with you!”

“Oh, dear god.” Kurt practically falls off the couch.

“No, honey, absolutely not.”

“But I like you!”

“Yeah, but you don’t do it with your family. You do it people you _like_ -like.”

“Like a boyfriend and a girlfriend, and a husband and a wife, and you know… not your family.”

“And people your own age.”

“Yes, that too!”

“You know what?” Kurt claps his hands, a sudden burst of energy and resolution. “This has been a great discussion, Elle, but you should definitely talk to your parents about it, too.”

“And not tell them about the book.”

“Or most of this conversation.” Kurt mumbles.

She eyes them with some suspicion but eventually she shrugs. “Okay.”

“Thanks.” Blaine grins. “I’m going to get your sister so we can have dinner, how about that?”

“Dessert?” She beams hopefully. Blaine shoots an “I told you so” look at Kurt, who answers back with a “we’re not that type of grandparents” glare and turns back to Elle.

“We have an excellent selection of fruits.”

“Booo.” She says half-heartedly. She probably saw it coming, anyway.

Blaine takes that as the end of the conversation, and goes to get Eliza. He knocks on Maria’s old bedroom door, where Eliza stays when she’s over.

“Yeah?”

He opens the door slightly, and sticks his head inside. “Can you come helps us set…?” He notices she’s been hurriedly wiping at her face. Her eyes are red-rimmed and her nose bright red. “Are you okay?”

“No, I’m fine, yeah. It’s just allergies.”

Blaine pauses, and then decides to go inside and close the door quietly. “Izzy… were you crying?”

She sniffs and shrugs. She opens her mouth to answer but then, like it always happens with her, her voice is gone and she buries her face in her hands. Blaine reaches out to rub her arm as he looks around trying to find some kind of clue. Finally, she looks up and digs through her backpack and pulls out a piece of paper. It’s her report card.

“It’s all… C’s… It’s all… I’m so dumb.”

“What? No, you’re not.” Blaine frowns. “And it’s not all C’s. There’s three B’s, and-“

“How did your report cards look? And grandpa Kurt’s? And my dad’s?”

Blaine open and closes his mouth, trying to look for something to say.

“Everyone in this goddamn family is a freaking genius, and I can’t get a single A. I work my ass off! I spend every minute of my free time studying and that’s the best I can do?!”

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s… that doesn’t mean anything.”

“It does. I’m the… I’m the loser. Every family has one, right?”

“No,” Blaine tilts her head back up, finger under her chin. “First of all, your dad’s report cards weren’t straight A’s, I can tell you that.”

She rolls her eyes, “Because he’s not a hotshot screenwriter, right now.”

“Exactly.”

“No, you don’t get it. He didn’t have straight A’s because he didn’t try. I try. I try really hard, grandpa! And I can’t.”

“Okay, but-”

“No _but_! Don’t downplay this! I’m serious. This is my life, and I’m average. I’m the most average person I know, grandpa.”

“You are not average.” Blaine is surprised at how forceful his tone is. “Your grades are average, you’re not.”

She levels him with a hard glare.

“You are the kindest person I know,” he says. “You are selfless, and conscientious, and hard-working, and so damn dedicated. You blow most people out of the water, just being yourself.”

She deflates a little, but Blaine can tell this conversation isn’t over. And, if he’s being honest, he gets where she’s coming from. Their family is not an easy one to grow up in. The more people who excel the more expectations are on you that you should too.

“I don’t want to be one of those people whose parents have to buy their way into university. But I also don’t want to go to whatever random school has low enough standards to let me in.”

Blaine smiles sadly. “Okay… can I ask you something?”

She shrugs.

“Why do you want to go to college? What do you want to study?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t figured that out. But of course I want to go to college.”

“Why?”

“Why did you?”

“I liked studying, and I liked music theory, and the study plans that I applied to excited me. I could’ve chosen not to go to college and pursue my career right out of high school, but I wasn’t ready to do that, yet, so I chose going to NYU. I didn’t finish. They gave me my degree honorary, but I never actually finished it.” He shrugs, and he can see she’s starting to listen. “Listen, if you want to be a therapist, like your aunt Maria, then yes, you need to go to college. If you want to be an engineer, a professor, a lawyer… Sure. And if that’s what you want, we’ll work on those grades. We’ll get you tutors and look into study techniques more suited to you.” He chases her eyes and gives her a silly smile. “But if you’re just doing it because everyone did, then don’t.”

“It’s not like that. I just…”

“It’s hard being surrounded by people who are so outrageously unique and so in tune with their callings and talents.” Blaine nods. “But there’s nothing wrong with being a normal person, with normal ambitions. You don’t have to conquer the world to make any of us proud. You just have to be happy.”

“I don’t know how to do that…”

“You’ll learn. And with your work ethic, you’ll learn pretty damn fast, I bet.”

She chuckles.

“Hey, academic excellency isn’t the only measure of worth or talent, or… anything… People have different intelligence. I can tell you right now, your emotional intelligence is your biggest strength.”

“It is?”

Blaine nods and winks.

“Thanks.”

“You should also talk to your parents about this.” he grabs at her desk chair and wheels it closer. “And your aunt Maria, as well. She could help you more than any of us can, or find you someone who you can feel more comfortable discussing this with.”

“I guess.”

“But for now, just a hug and we’re good.”

She hugs him easily, falling right into his arms like she was made to fit there.

“Thanks, grandpa. I feel a little better.”

“So do I.” He smiles. “You have restored my faith in my own grand parenting skills after I’ve just given your sister the worst talk about sex that we could have ever given her.”

“What?!”

He shrugs and stands up. “I blame your mother.”

-

_“People are responding well because it’s in our nature. We want to like things, we want to love people. No one’s first instinct is to hate, and I think if people are given the choice to see a positive role model instead of watching some kind of grey drab cycle of doom, they will choose light. It’s not about sugarcoating – it’s about knowing where to look for the future.”_

_Given everything we’ve talked about over this interview I can definitely connect everything to this philosophy. Hummel’s relationship to his family, and the way they’ve influenced his view on life. There’s an underlying positivity that even in the harshest of drama, he manages to sneak in there, just like Anderson did with his music, acting and other works, and it might be fair to say “like father, like son.”_

_“Absolutely.” He tells me. “That’s one thing I’d never deny. Although, it’s more ‘like fathers, like children.’ They’ve left as great an influence on my work as they have on me as a person. Just like Maria and I did on my parents’ and their careers.”_

_Has it been for the better?_

_“I don’t know,” he shrugs with a cheeky smile. “You tell me.”_

_I’m inclined to think it’s a yes._

-

“Divorce sucks.” Antonio mutters as he sways his whiskey from side to side.

“Amen.” Alice clinks her martini against his glass.

“You’re not divorced. You never even married.”

“Because I knew better. I was always smarter than you. Bitches be cray.”

“What happened to us?” He sighs, and if he can hear his own slur it means things are bad. Though, he hopes, not as bad as Alice’s. “We had good role models. We should’ve known how to make it work.”

“I don’t think it works like that.” Alice sips her drinks – slurps, more like it. “It’s not guitar hero… you’re not following the instructions on the screen. What worked for them might not work for us, and besides, we’re different people, who married different people. Well, you married, I let another person raise my dog too, and then I was left dogless and personless!”

“Boohoo.”

“But my point is, the equation is different, so… you know. And statistically they’re the abomination anyway.”

“Uncool.”

“What? That they’re still married?”

“No… gay is not an abomination, don’t say that.”

“You guys are drunk.” Maria takes their glasses straight out of their hands. “Any more and you’ll regret many things.”

“It’s open bar! What’s the point of an open bar, if you’re not gonna let us enjoy, Mary-Sue?” Alice squints her eyes at Maria.

“The point of an open bar is to let everyone have a good time. It is not to let to grown ass adults wallow and get drunk and eventually probably throw up on their parents and ruin their entire fifty year anniversary celebration.”

“That sounds like an awesome time.” Alice shrugs. “They cleaned my vomit many times, and I’m sure they’d enjoy the nostalgia.”

“I’m sure they really wouldn’t.” Kurt’s voice interrupts, and he leans over his son to get the whiskey bottle. “You see, nostalgia is a tricky mistress. You think it will make you happy, but at the end of the day you’re crying and wallowing and thinking things were way better than they actually were. Case in point, you were a cute baby, but don’t oversell it, no one misses your puke.”

Blaine extends a glass towards Kurt, grinning. “I’m pretty sure the thing we miss the most about your infancy was your inability to talk.” He winks.

“Oh, har har.” She rolls her eyes. “You guys think you’re hilarious.”

“Well, they are.” Tina shrugs, taking Alice’s unfinished martini from Maria’s hand and downing it. “They’re the funniest.”

“Sure…” Antonio sighs. “Kick us while we’re down.”

“What is this?!” Blaine slaps Antonio over the head. “A pity party?!”

“A pity party?!” Kurt repeats.

“What’s this I hear?” Mike slides on over. “ _A pity party_?”

“It’s a pity party.” Maria nods.

“Well, damn.” Tina smiles.

“It’s not a pity party.” Alice mumbles, already sprawling over the counter in search of the nearest alcoholic bottle.

“Oh, but it is.” Kurt muses, as he pushes the vodka further from her hand.

“And you know the rules.”

“No.” Antonio shakes his head.

“You made the rules.” Maria grins.

“Um, so I’m unmaking them.” Alice gives Kurt a glare, outstretching her hand for the bottle.

“No… I don’t think it works that way, sweetie.” He coos at her, scrunches up his nose.

“Do you want this pity party or not?” Blaine gives them a steady stare. “The rules are clear. No song, no pity party.”

“No booze.”

“I’m getting divorced, dad!”

Blaine gasps. “It _is_ a pity party!”

“On _our_ wedding anniversary!” Mike gasps even louder, hand to his chest.

“Shame.” Tina uses the whiskey bottle as a bell and ends up sloshing them with it.

“Fine!” Alice yells, wiping her face and grabbing the bottle off her mother’s hand. “It’s a fucking pity party.”

She grabs Antonio’s hand and angrily trudges up to the stage, pushing Rachel off it and interrupting her mid-ballad. She stands still in front of the microphone for at least ten seconds, eyeing their parents with a drunken rage that has more comedic value than actual emotion behind it. Finally she moves to take a swig straight from the bottle – she practically downs what’s left of it, and hands it to Antonio who follows suit.

She takes and deep breath and stares Antonio down until he does too, handing him a second microphone with gestures as angry as all before that one.

“When I was young...” they start. They don’t sound good, but it’s enough to get the room roaring with laughter and applause. “I never needed anyone, and making love was just for fun… those days are gone.”

They squint their eyes at the group laughing the most uproariously. Another deep breaths and then they’re yelling into the microphones. “ALL BY MYSEEEEEEEEEEELF! DON’T WANNA BEEE, ALL BY MYSEEEEEEEEEeEeEEELF!”

Immediately a chain of high fives erupts from the group at the bar. They watch attentively, as the two on stage try to butcher the song as much as possible, but it’s obvious it’s working. The laughter in the room is contagious and the stage isn’t immune. Alice may have created the rule as a torture device, but it’s always worked as quite the opposite. They leave the stage faking their annoyance, and stomp their way back, hands already outstretched for their deserved drinks.

Blaine hands Antonio his, while Mike solemnly offers a freshly prepared martini to Alice.

“That was very good.” Blaine nods.

“It was atrocious.” Tina corrects him.

“Atrociously awesome.” Alice shakes her hair out her face and tips her nose high.

Antonio chuckles and puts his drink down. “I’m sorry we bummed you guys out. It’s your night, we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Pathetic, Hummel.” Alice mutters.

Kurt puts a hand on Antonio’s shoulder, “You’ve paid your dues. All good.”

Blaine leans in and whispers, “You’re going to be okay, kid.”

Antonio smiles and lets himself press into Blaine a little bit.

“Okay, people.” Maria speaks up, “This was awesome, but Aunt Rachel is up there singing it for real _now_ , and she’s been up there for ages, and it’s getting more depressing by the second. Someone just do something. I can’t stand it anymore. I don’t have much more respect left to lose, at this point.”

The all giggle and settle in to watch the drunken performance, much to Maria’s chagrin, until finally knight in shining armor Wes steps up and disconnects her microphone.

-

_He checks his watch – politely and discreetly – and I know my time may be running out, so I go for one last question. “What has been your favorite project?”_

_“The musical we wrote together.” He answers with no hesitation. “It was a huge risk. First of all, I wasn’t a huge fan of musicals, not like my parents, and just the fact that we were basing it largely on our lives, sometimes opening up all sorts of old wounds… Everyone around us was just telling us not to do it. We were going to ruin our relationship.”_

_“Obviously it didn’t.”_

_“Obviously not. I mean, sure, there were tricky times, but ultimately, I think we ended up creating something so much bigger than ourselves, and even bigger than our relationship and dynamic, and we did it together, and we healed together. My other dad was always there with us as well, and he did all of the art direction of the play, and the costume design, and my sister was subjected to so many drafts of scripts and songs, and in the end, as much as it all sounds like nepotism, it was something that we were happy to have done as a family._

_“I sat through every performance of its first three month run, and every time I was so undeniably connected to them and to myself as their son. Everyone has many identities, and this one is one of my biggest, and proudest. So, emotionally speaking – and there’s no other way a person can answer a question like that – that was definitely my favorite project. Our legacy as a family is right there. The core of their nature was right there, and I couldn’t have been luckier to work with such talents.”_

_The life of a writer is its best source of inspiration after all, and what I’ve learned from this interview is that Antonio Hummel honored the love, nourishing and opportunities that were given to him by his parents just as eager to create and communicate those very emotions. He’s created a body of work that not only entertains, but also inspires and humbles us. “Like parents, like children.”_

_“I would have regretted not having done that, because now they – we – are infinite.”_

_-_

Antonio closes the car door. He doesn’t slam it, but the city is so quiet this early in the morning that the sound travels. Maria exits from the passenger side and the same thing happens. No other doors to open or close, now – there’s no one else in the car. They share a look and a smile over the roof of the car and then wordlessly start to make their way towards the park.

She holds the urn close to her chest as they walk, and while he also wants to hold it a little bit, he can’t bring himself to ask her for it.

Their pace is slow. They don’t need to communicate to know they both want to take their time doing it, no rush. There’s not much left anyway.

He stops where his dad tried valiantly and failed spectacularly to play ball with him the first spring they were together. He barely needs to look at Maria before she hands him the urn. He opens it with care and pours a small portion.

They continue.

Next, it’s Maria who sits for a moment where they once spent a full day with a picnic basket, cards, a guitar, and her college books because fresh air helps the brain, and so do regularly scheduled breaks.

They both decide to honor the spot where they saw, from a distance, both their dads finally making up after a week’s worth of fighting. A year later no one had even remembered what the fight was about, but that one moment had stuck for decades. The sight of their held hands coming towards them had been a reprieve, but not unexpected.

Finally they climb the steps to the top of the castle at the park, like they did a year and a half ago with their dad holding the other urn. They sit overlooking the park for at least an hour. By the time they open the urn and scatter the last of the ashes, the sun is rising. A new day in a smaller world.

Antonio hugs Maria tight and lets her tears seep into his shirt.

“They’re back together now…” she whispers with finality as she pulls back.

He brushes her gray hair off her forehead. “Yes, they are. Like they belong.”

“Is it weird that that makes me feel better?” She smiles through tears.

He shakes his head. “No. It makes me feel better, too. They should never be apart.”

“They were so lucky to have each other, weren’t they?”

“We might have been luckier, to have them both.”


End file.
